


A Family, Reunited

by alidiabin



Series: A Family, Together [1]
Category: NCIS
Genre: 2020, F/M, France - Freeform, Insomnia, Mentions of Anxiety, Mentions of COVID-19, Paris - Freeform, Written in real time, cross posted from ffn, lockdown - Freeform, set post 17x11
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:47:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 113,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27415972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alidiabin/pseuds/alidiabin
Summary: Set post 17x11, the first year of Tony, Ziva, and Tali after Ziva comes back to them. Written between February and September 2020, so mentions of COVID, and the first Parisian lockdown. Cross posted from FFN. Complete.
Relationships: Ziva David/Anthony DiNozzo
Series: A Family, Together [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2003044
Comments: 4
Kudos: 38
Collections: Hope To Be Happy





	1. Late Night Talks

It was the quiet that got to Ziva. In the quiet, that the panic came, catching her quickly like a riptide. It was only ever quiet at night.

Ziva's days were now filled with so much noise.

And, so much joy.

For someone who was so little, Tali made a lot of noise. She told herself stories, when she was in the bathroom. She made whooshing noises as she scooted along the sidewalk. She insisted on early morning karaoke sessions.

Her daughter. His daughter. Their daughter.

Theirs.

Tony only encouraged the noise. He made rocket noises when he lifted Tali up. He sang Let It Go with as much gusto as Tali. Tony laughed at Tali's nonsensical stories, and told a few of his own.

There had been so much laughter in the last week. From all three of the occupants of the apartment.

Yet, still the panic hid in the shadows. Waiting to strike. Waiting for Ziva to let her guard down.

In the six nights she had been home, Ziva had not slept peacefully.

At first, it had been sharing the bed with Tony that had stolen her sleep. Neither of them were used to sharing a bed, and both of them were worried that if they closed their eyes it would all be a dream. Those concerns had quickly passed.

Then Tali got into the habit of coming into their room in the small hours. She needed to be sure that both her parents were still there. Once, she was sure that her parents had not disappeared, Tali usually climbed into bed with them.

When Ziva finally did doze off, it was with her daughter's elbow digging into her, and her partner snoring, as the three of them lay in a bed that was not big enough for three.

The nights where she did sleep, it was never for long, and never deep.

She knew what happened when she let herself sleep deeply.

She had exposed her daughter to so much. Ziva would not let her daughter see her mother destroyed by nightmares.

If it meant she never slept a full night again, so be it.

Ziva had survived eight years of hundred hour weeks under Gibbs, and Tali's colicky early infancy. She could survive on the bare minimum of slumber.

Still, the quiet got to her. The Parisian apartment was not quite silent. The fridge hummed. Tali's white noise machine bled out from her slightly open door. Tony's snores carried through from the bedroom still had trouble thinking of as theirs.

The light from the street seeped through the curtains, that they had not closed properly when they went to bed. The unlit menorah stood proudly on the windowsill. The Christmas tree stood in the corner, a shiny ornament twinkled in the only light in the room, the blue light of the tablet.

Ziva studied the photo that she brought up. Tali aged about three and sat on Santa's lap. Tali's little curls were contained under an elf hat. A shy smile on her face.

Ziva felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She sucked in a deep breath. The panic bubbled up her body, burning her throat. It came over her quickly.

For the last week she had looked around every corner, and watched every other person in the park. She would always be waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Ziva put the tablet down, and took another deep breath. Inhale. Exhale.

She noticed that Tony had stopped snoring.

There was noise from behind the couch. Ziva bunched her fists together. She was ready to fight.

Ready to fight for them.

All of this had been for them.

"There you are," Tony said, his voice heavy with sleep.

Ziva turned around slowly, and found Tony standing in his boxers and OSU t-shirt, his hair spiked up with sleep.

"Did I wake you?" Ziva asked, as she pulled her legs up to her chest. She wanted to make herself small.

Tony slowly walked around the couch, and sat next to her. The couch sagged with his extra weight. He picked up the throw blanket from the end of the couch, and threw it over his lap. They sat perpendicular from one another.

"My bladder did," he said, as he reached across her lap for her hand. "When I woke up, you weren't there. I kinda freaked out for a moment."

Their fingers interlaced. She squeezed it.

"So Tali is not the only one who expects me to disappear whenever I turn the corner," Ziva said. The panic spoke for her.

You are a terrible mother.

Tony blinked a careful calculated blink.

"It's not like that," he said, his voice cracked. "It's just you weren't there. I'd gotten used to you being there."

She had caused so much hurt.

"I could not sleep," Ziva said softly, as the anxiety started to slip away. The sea was calmer than it looked. "I did not want to keep you awake."

Tony squeezed her hand, just like he did when she woke from a nightmare.

"You didn't," Tony said. "Our daughter does a pretty good job of exhausting me, every single day. Like I said, it was my old man bladder that woke me up."

Our.

That was her favourite word in her new life.

Our home.

Our favourite coffee shop.

Our daughter.

Ziva stifled a yawn with her spare hand. This was the cruelty of her situation, she was exhausted but could not sleep.

The insomnia was how the panic manifested itself now.

Insomnia and racing thoughts.

They do not want you.

"You are a good father," Ziva said, as their hand fell apart.

Tony shook his head.

"I'm trying my best," he replied. "I'm just glad our kid got her sleeping habits from me."

Ziva averted her eyes.

"Mine are nurture rather than nature," Ziva said, talking to her lap.

Tony shifted closer. His knee bumped the bottom of her sock-clad foot.

"I wondered if this might happen," Tony said softly. "After today."

Ziva sucked in a breath.

"Today was difficult," Ziva uttered, as she looked toward the Christmas tree in the corner.

They really needed to take that down.

When Ziva had suggested that over breakfast. Tali had declared it was far too early. It wasn't even new year yet.

"Things will settle down soon," Tony said, as he shuffled just a millimeter closer. Her fuzzy socks rested on his thigh. "Next time she falls over, she'll reach for you."

Due to the metro strikes, when the little family did leave their flat, it was to places they could walk to. Tali had gotten a scooter from Santa, and was rather insistent on taking it everywhere. Even though she was still a little wobbly.

Their adventure that rainy day had been to the shops. They had eaten their way through all of their Christmas leftovers, and Ziva wanted to broaden her family's culinary horizons.

She had visions of standing behind Tali in the kitchen, covered in flour, as she kneaded the dough for challah, of her grimacing as they released steam from the crock pot on a chilly evening, and of Tali carefully cracking the eggs into shakshuka. Those visions had nourished Ziva during their time apart.

Ziva wanted her daughter to have the type of memories she had with her own mother.

For Rivka David, food was love.

Ziva wanted to make sure her daughter only knew love.

Tali had taken a spill on the scooter as they navigated a crowded street. Her bright pink helmet and puffy coat meant that the only injury from the spill, had been to her confidence. That was an injury that would heal quickly.

However, what had broken everyone's heart, was that even though Ziva was the closest parent, and had rushed to Tali's side, Tali did not want her.

Tali wanted her Daddy. Tali only stopped crying when Tony wrapped his arms around her. Tali would only get back on the scooter when Tony promised her she would be fine.

Ziva thought she had done better at hiding her hurt.

"I have not been back long," Ziva said, as she looked toward the door to Tali's bedroom. "It is understandable for her to still be getting used to me."

Tony patted her knee, encouraging her to move closer. She slowly uncurled her knees, and laid them on top of the coffee coloured throw blanket. Tony absent-mindedly patted her knee.

The pink pyjama pants she was wearing were supposed to be a Christmas present, but when she had arrived at their door with just a backpack and pleas of forgiveness, they had let her open them early.

"I know it hurt," Tony said. "I saw your face."

Ziva's face flushed red.

She thought she had done better at hiding her pain.

They had looked so convinced when she stepped out of the shower with red eyes and a sniffly nose, blaming the cold weather.

"I did hurt," Ziva finally said, making good on the promise that she and Tony had made on her first night home. Honesty only, from this moment. "When she was little all I had to do was hold her and it would calm her. I was silly to think that would still be the case."

Tony reached for her hand.

"That scarf you left in the go-bag," Tony said. "It smelt like you. It was the only thing that would get her to sleep during those first few days. Even when it stopped smelling like you, she would reach for it."

Ziva had seen the scarf, hung above Tali's bed, like a dream catcher.

"What are you trying to say?" Ziva asked.

"I'm trying to say, that she still looks to you for comfort," Tony said softly. "I know she is treating you like an alien from outer space right now, but we'll get there. You've gotta believe."

Ziva nodded.

"I do," Ziva said, her voice shaky. "While I was away, I fought to be here, to have the chance to make up for my mistakes. I have so much to make up for."

Everything she had done had been to get back to them.

Her family.

Tony tugged at her hand, his finger moved up her wrist, and rubbed the scar she had gotten in Paraguay.

The scar Tony wanted the full story on. A story she had promised to tell him, once the two of them had some time alone.

"There is nothing to make up for," Tony said. "We've just got to find our groove. Get into a routine. It'll be easier once Little Miss goes back to school. These days always blur together, and we all get cabin fever. The strikes aren't helping."

Ziva's eyes felt heavy. She stifled another yawn.

"Thank you," Ziva whispered.

"For what?" Tony asked.

For letting her come back.

For telling their daughter stories of her, so that she was not forgotten.

For not being angry.

"For everything," Ziva finally said.

A smile crossed Tony's face. He picked up her legs, and pulled himself up from the couch in a rush, having remembered what roused him from his bed.

"I'm gonna go do what I got up for in the first place," he declared as he shifted his weight between his feet. "Then I'm going to go back to bed. I'll keep your side warm for you."

Ziva slowly extracted herself from the couch, ignoring the dull ache in her knees. She carried so many scars.

"I am going to try to go to sleep," she announced, as they stood in front of each other. "I will try not to disrupt your sleep any more."

Tony rested his hands on her shoulders.

"You are not a disruption," he said softly. "I sleep better when you're next to me. Always have."

Ziva looked up at him. She studied him. The grey in his roots, which made him look like his father. The lines around his eyes. The day old stubble on his face.

"When-," Tony started. "When I woke up, and you weren't there, I thought for a moment that I'd completely made up. I thought I'd finally lost the plot, and was hallucinating you being here."

Ziva flitted her eyes. She could not look at him. She had caused so much hurt. Perhaps too much hurt.

"Sorry," Ziva said. "I am so sorry."

Tony's hands moved from her shoulder, and took her face into his hands. He held her gaze for a few moments. Saying everything that could never cross his lips.

A siren wailed in the distance, causing them to break their eye contact.

"There's a rule about that," Tony murmured.

"Some rules are meant to be broken," Ziva replied.

She would apologize every day, and it would never be enough.

Tony flashed her a smile. His thousand watt smile. The smile that their daughter had inherited. The memories of that smile had sustained her during those years apart. The wilderness years.

"Let's go to bed," Tony said, as he moved his hands from her face, and stepped backward, heading toward the bathroom. "Munchkin will be up in a few hours, and she does not have an off switch."

Ziva stood for a second, in her quiet living area. Tali's toys were spilling out of their basket. The fruit bowl on the dining table, held the fruit they would try an coax Tali to eat. The fridge held the food that the family would eat that night, on the sixth night of Hanukkah.

It was a home.

Ziva was home.

Quietly, she moved across the living area, weaving past the couch, and slipped into her and Tony's bedroom. She slipped under the covers.

Tony appeared in the doorway, and slid under the covers. His hands were still a little wet.

At least he washed his hands.

"Lalia Tov, Tony," Ziva whispered.

The clock on Tony's nightstand declared it to be early in the morning, in bright red letters.

"Buona Notte," he said, as he placed a quick kiss on her forehead.

They lay in bed facing each other, as the sandman came, and Ziva slept well for the first time since she came home.


	2. Fireworks

Tony picked up the bottle of wine from the kitchen counter, and walked past the dining table to the big window, where Ziva was standing.

She had the wine glass pressed to her lips, and a soft smile on her face.

Their street had been a stage earlier in the evening, with choruses of young people heading out for a much more exciting evening. Their neighbourhood was popular with students, and transplants to the city.

The netflix menu played on the television, still on mute. Tali's night light peeked out from behind her mostly closed door. The nightlight was star shaped, and Tony had never managed to make it work so it turned off after three hours, like the box promised it would.

Tali had gone to bed without too much fuss earlier, making a change from previous nights.

A brief period of regression is to be expected, Tony had read when he did a frantic google search about preparing kids for change, when Ziva sent her flight details.

Expect some clinginess, the website warned.

Expect disruption to routines, Tony had read, just roll with the punches.

Just roll with the punches, had been Tony's parenting philosophy from the start.

"Top up?" Tony asked, holding out the wine bottle.

Ziva's glass still had a splash of burgundy in the bottom.

Ziva shook her head. Her cheeks were rosy, and she was resting her spare hand on the windowsill.

"You okay?" he asked.

Ziva placed her glass on the windowsill. It had only been one night since they put the menorah away, and the windowsill looked so empty. The end of the holidays were so bittersweet.

"I have not had this much wine in a long time," Ziva declared, as a smile crossed her face. "Actually, I do not think I have had anything to drink for a very long time."

They were on their second bottle, and Tony had definitely had more than Ziva.

There would be sore heads in the morning. Mostly his.

Ziva always did better with hangovers.

"How long?" he asked, as he topped up his glass, and brought the glass to his lips.

Ziva looked out of the window, and up at the sky.

The fireworks were still over an hour away.

"I think the last time I drank was the night after we handed in our badges," Ziva declared. "That feels like a lifetime ago."

That was a lifetime ago.

Their daughters.

Tony was not surprised. Drinking was not one of Ziva's vices. When she first joined the team, she could drink him under the table, and like other people in their early twenties had a tolerance for shots.

Then after she came back from Somalia, everything was different. The team did less post-case trips to the bar, and when they did Ziva only ever had two drinks. She could not lose control.

Even on that night after they handed in their badges, Ziva had only had three vodka sodas, while he and McGee downed half a dozen beers each in quick succession.

He was not surprised that she had been temperate during their time apart. Her focus was only ever on the mission.

"No wonder your tipsy," he said, as he snaked his spare arm around her back. She was a stick, he should have forced more cheese on her, when they had their after dinner snack.

She leaned her head on his shoulder. He could smell her shampoo. It was coconut, different from the one she used to wear when they worked together. That apple sent had haunted him after he returned to D.C without her. He was once rendered completely silent when he smelt the artificial apple scent in a coffee shop, and found it on the barista whose dress sense was closer to Abby than Ziva.

"I am not," she said. A smile crossed her face.

Tony smiled back.

He had smiled so much more in the last ten days.

Ziva's smile broke into a yawn.

Wine always made her tired.

"I don't think Tali will be the only one who misses the fireworks," Tony said.

According to their five year old it was already the New Year. Tali had insisted that she be allowed to stay up to ring in the new year. Tony knew that their kid would be crashed out by ten, and would still be up with the sun on New Years Day. Tony also knew that if Tali did not get enough sleep, she would be terror the next day.

The family had settled into a New Years movie night, with popcorn and a cheeseboard. Tali even got some watered down grape juice, to match her parents wine.

When Tali's eyes started to droop, Tony quickly changed the time on the tablet, and played a fireworks display from Australia. Tali was easily fooled. She wished her parents a happy new year, and happily went to bed.

He and Ziva had settled in for a movie which did not involve cartoon characters, and Ziva had started to drift off, her head on his shoulder. The movie was supposed to be a funny one, but the humour fell flat.

Ziva was still struggling to sleep properly. The nights that Ziva managed to go to sleep, were often broken up by nightmares, and then when Ziva did settle back in, Tali usually found her way into bed with her parents.

When the movie had finished, Tony and Ziva had both gotten up to empty their bladders, and get more snacks. The movement seemed to have given Ziva a second wind.

"I think I will manage," Ziva said, as she reached for her wine glass. She took a small sip. There was a red stain above her lip.

Tony smiled.

They watched the street. Drunk young people spilled out of one of the apartment buildings. Even though it was freezing, they were wearing next to nothing.

Tony realised his daughter was closer in age to the merry students, than he was.

"I certainly drank enough for both of us," Tony said, his voice cracking. "While we were apart."

Ziva tensed up. Her head moving from his shoulder. She turned slightly, so that they were facing each other.

"I kinda understand all those Moms who drink things on the internet now," Tony said, as he put down his own glass of wine.

Ziva looked up at him with sad eyes. The same sad eyes that came over Tali, when they used to talk about Ziva, before she was home.

He saw so much of Ziva in Tali.

"I am sorry," she whispered.

Tony frowned.

When would Ziva stop apologizing?

It was water under the bridge.

They were together now, and that was all that mattered.

"You didn't make me drink," he said, softly. "It's always been a DiNozzo coping strategy, since the dawn of time. My Dad's best friends are Johnnie Walker and Jack Daniels."

Ziva nodded, and his face fell into a frown. Tony wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close.

"When I left you in Israel, it took me a lot of time to get my head straight, there were probably a few times I went to work with a sore head," Tony declared, his voice cracking as he spoke. "Then when it was just me and Tali here, I kinda missed adult conversation. Spending all day with a toddler solo is a lot. I got into the habit of a couple of classes on vino after bedtime. We're in France after all."

Ziva looked up at him, her eyes locked on his.

She could see right through him.

"You were lonely," Ziva said, her voice cracking.

"No," he said, shaking his head. "I had Tali."

Ziva's mouth opened, and hung open for a beat.

"You may not have been alone," Ziva said softly. "But, I know how lonely it can be when it is just you and Tali."

Anger bubbled up in Tony's stomach, Ziva did not have to be alone with Tali. He would have been on a plane the second she told him.

He gulped, trying to force the anger back down. He and Ziva had made promises that they would talk about things, once Tali was back at school and they had six hours a day by themselves to unpack the last six years.

"Maybe," Tony said. "I guess it's been a little hard here. I know you told me to lay low, but I was probably more closed off than I needed to be."

He watched as Ziva took in a deep breath, and let it out slowly.

"You should not have had to put your life on hold," she uttered.

Tony pulled her closer.

"I'd do it all over again," Tony said. "If it means we got to all be together."

Ziva's lip quivered.

"These last few years have been hard for all of us," Tony said. "But it's gonna be better now."

Ziva gave him a soft smile.

"And, I've had some great moments in the last few years too," Tony declared. "Our kid is all kinds of amazing."

Ziva smiled, a full beam of a smile, then looked toward Tali's bedroom door, with a soft look on her face.

"She is," Ziva replied, as she turned back to him.

They lingered for a few moments. Eyes fixed on each other. They said a thousand things without speaking a word.

Ziva got up onto her tip toes and pressed a kiss onto Tony's lips.

"Happy New Year," Ziva declared, as she took her lips off of his.

Tony was stunned into silence for a second.

"You're a little early," he finally said, with a smile.

The fireworks were only inside the apartment.

"According to our daughter it is already 2020," Ziva said, as she moved closer to him and placed another kiss on his lips. This kiss was longer, and sweeter.

He had dreamed of her lips of on his for years, and the kiss had been everything he had imagined it to be, and more.

The kiss broke apart, and Ziva smiled up at him.

"Are you okay?" she asked, as she placed her hand on his forearm. "With this?'

They were taking things slow.

Tali would always be their number one priority.

Everything was for her.

"Yeah," he said, his voice heavy. "Are you okay with this?"

Ziva nodded. Her eyes glimmered, and a smile crossed his face.

"Yes," Ziva said.

Tony reached for her, and pulled her close.

The voice in the back of his head told him to slow down. It had only been two weeks since Ziva had come home. They were still finding their way to each other.

They had not kissed like this yet. Not with desire dripping from them.

Slowly, he told himself.

"I do want to see the fireworks," Tony said, "We usually get a good view here."

Hurt washed over Ziva for just a second. She untangled herself from him, and turned back toward the window.

"Did you want more wine?" Tony asked, as he picked up the bottle.

"No," Ziva said, as she looked out of the window. A quiet hung in the air. "There was no wine in the house until today."

Tony poured the last of the wine into his glass.

"No," Tony said, as he took a sip of the wine. "There were a couple of times where I woke up with a sore head, and realised that our kid doesn't have an off switch."

Ziva put her hand in his and squeezed it.

"I realised pretty quickly that I was in danger of becoming like my Dad, and didn't want Tali to grow up like that," Tony said, as he thought of how much his father had changed. "So, I decided to only buy booze when there was something to celebrate. It wasn't an addiction, it was just a habit. It was easy enough to go cold turkey."

A habit that was easy enough to break.

"This time last year, I had a couple of wines while I was waiting for the fireworks. I fell asleep before they started, and woke up to Tali shaking me awake," Tony said, grimacing at the memory. "Dinner hadn't agreed with her. She's hard enough to deal with when she is sick, but it was even worse with me on like no sleep, and being a little worse for wear."

Ziva grimaced.

"Next time she gets sick," Ziva uttered, her voice getting distant. "I will look after her."

She still thought she had something to make up for.

"We will look after her," Tony said. "Together. Looking after her isn't a burden. I love her. Even when she is throwing up on me."

Ziva was quiet for a moment.

"I always knew you would," Ziva said softly. "I knew you would be a good father."

That anger from earlier bubbled up again.

Tony gulped it down.

He thought he had put that anger away, a long time ago.

Tony reached for Ziva, and placed a kiss on her lips.

The electricity from earlier came back.

Screw slow, he wanted her. He wanted all of her now.

They had waited so long for this.

"I thought you wanted to see the fireworks," Ziva said.

Tony smiled, there were enough fireworks between them.

"I"ve seen New Years fireworks a few times now," Tony said, with a smirk. "I think I can skip these ones."

Ziva's hand ran under his t-shirt, and up his back.

His body tingled.

God, he missed her.

So damn much.

"I've missed you," he said, as she looked at her. "So much."

"I have missed you too," Ziva said.

Tony placed an urgent kiss on her lips.

"We should take this to the bedroom," Tony said.

Ziva nodded, and took his hand.

"Daddy," a voice called out.

Ziva and Tony turned around, and found Tali standing in the doorway of her bedroom. There was a wet spot on the front of her pyjama pants. Tony's nostrils picked up a familiar smell.

It had been a long time since she had an accident.

Regression, he reminded himself.

"Daddy," Tali called out again. Her lip quivered. Her face flushed red with shame. "Ima."

Ziva rushed toward their daughter, she reached her, and bent down so she was at Tali's eye level. Ziva placed a hand on Tali's back, and waited for her reaction. Tali was a bit tentative with her mother. Ziva knew enough to let Tali lead the way.

"Daddy," Tali gulped. Tears ran down her face. "I'm sorry."

Tali then let out a huge sob that was too big for her little body . Ziva wrapped her arms around Tali, and she did not resist. Tali buried her head into Ziva's shoulders.

"It is okay," Ziva whispered. "It was an accident."

Tali's eyes stared at him. Deep into his soul.

Tony was suddenly stone cold sober.

By the time fireworks filled the Parisian sky, Tony and Ziva were in bed. Tali was laying between her parents, having finally drifted off to sleep. Her little snores filled the bedroom. Ziva rubbed rhythmic circles into Tali's back, for her comfort as much as Tali's.

Tony read the results from google search about bed wetting in five year olds, and watched as the time changed from 2359 to 0000.

"Ziva," Tony whispered, as he moved his phone to the nightstand.

Ziva turned so she was facing him.

"Happy New Year," he declared, his words punctuated by a yawn.

"Happy New Year," she replied, a sleepy smile on her face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again written in February 2020. 
> 
> Also, I'm not making Tony an alcoholic, but wanted to show that he's been in a lot of pain during their time apart too.
> 
> Thanks for reading.


	3. Monsters Under The Bed

Ziva stood in front of the closed apartment door, and took a deep breath.

In and out.

She reached up and knocked on the door.

Deja vu washed over her. It had been a little over two-weeks since she stood in front of the same door, a nearly empty backpack hanging off her shoulder, and anxiety building with each passing moment.

She had been bone tired then too, after spending twelve sleepless hours in the sky, and then having to find a taxi. Tony had offered to pick her up, but Ziva had not wanted to disrupt their lives anymore than she already had.

"We really need to get you a key," Tony announced, as he opened the door. Until today she had not needed a key, the occupants of the tiny apartment always left together, as a trio.

Ziva noticed the dark circles around Tony's eyes. His face was stubbly. He had not showered yet.

Tony took the paper bags from Ziva's hand and peaked into them. She watched as a smile crossed Tony's face, as he saw the pastries.

The boxers he slept in peaked out from the waistband of the sweatpants he had pulled on that morning, when Tali was ready to get up.

Ziva stepped into the apartment and untangled her scarf from her neck. A cold front had come through Paris overnight. She shrugged off her coat, and hung it next to Tali's puffer coat, she ran her hand over the tiny coat.

What a mess she had made?

Tony moved toward the kitchen.

"If you bring home treats every time you go for a walk," Tony said, "I'm never going to lose the baby weight."

Parisian Tony was maybe twenty pounds heavier than he had been when she had last seen him in that dusty Cairo hotel room. He had always been a comfort eater, so Ziva had not been surprised. On New Year's morning, while he made frittata, Tony had announced his resolution to get into his old clothes from DC.

Tali's resolution had been to make sure she always recycled, apparently her school was planning to go zero waste.

Ziva was to be as healthy as possible for her family. She had so much to make up for.

Ziva looked at Tali's door. It was open ever so slightly. Tali's voice carried through. Tali was singing to herself.

At least she wasn't crying.

Tony turned on his feet, and watched Ziva.

"She's having some quiet time," Tony declared, as he walked toward her. He reached her and tugged at her wrist. "She's okay, I promise."

Ziva would not say that their daughter was okay.

The previous night, Tali had wet the bed for the second time in the space of a week. When she had gone into her parents room seeking comfort, she had found her mother in the throes of a nightmare. Tony had woken up to Tali's shrieking, and with his two favourite ladies needing comfort. Tali had been the one who had his arms around her.

Tony moved back to the kitchen, and put the paper bags next to the fruit bowl. They would wait for Tali to have snacks.

"Did you have a good walk?" Tony asked, as he reached up to the high cupboard to collect small plates.

While Tali had settled back into sleep between her parents, relatively quickly. Ziva had not been so easily settled. She had wanted to protect her daughter from her past, and yet not even three weeks after she returned Tali had been witness to one of Ziva's worst nightmares. Ziva had laid awake watching as Tali's chest rose and fell. The anxiety simmered on low.

Tali had woken up in a foul mood. She was clingy with Tony, and tentative with Ziva. The burner was increased under Ziva's anxiety. The pot was about to boil over.

She caused nothing but pain to the people she loved most.

Ziva had sat through breakfast and then watched as her daughter moved to the television. Tali's preferred entertainment was loud and bright. Ziva wanted quiet time.

As soon as Tali was distracted by the television, Tony had asked if Ziva was okay, she declared that she just needed a minute. Tony had been the one to suggest a walk.

That had been an hour and a half ago.

"I think it helped," Ziva said carefully.

Their neighbourhood was quiet on the Friday after New Years. Many of the students that occupied the apartment building opposite were still away. Ziva had walked in the direction of the main shops, even though she was still unsure in crowds.

"Good," he said, as he turned the kettle on. In Paris, Tony had become an electric kettle convert. "Tea?"

Ziva nodded.

Tony went back into the high cupboard to collect cups and the percolator. He also pulled out some tea he started to buy since Ziva joined them.

Ziva turned her gaze toward Tali's bedroom.

"I never wanted to hurt her," Ziva whispered. "Please know that. I never wanted to cause this pain, to either of you."

Tony stopped what he was doing, and stood behind her. His shoulder bumped hers.

"You haven't," he said.

Ziva turned to him, a frown crossing her face.

"The accidents," she said softly. "They are caused by stress, yes? I have caused her stress."

Tony reached for her hand. He squeezed it tight.

"There were always gonna be teething issues," Tony declared.

Ziva looked down at the kitchen counter.

She remembered Tali when she was teething. She had drooled over everything. Soaking her bibs and Ziva's shirts. Tali had never been soothed by the teething toys, Ziva brought. She had been most comforted by Ziva's finger in her mouth.

"She did not enjoy teething" Ziva declared, as she sucked in a deep breath.

A flash of hurt crossed Tony's face. His eyes flitted up to the ceiling.

They needed to work on rules, for talking about what had been missed.

Ziva still needed to explain to him why exactly he had been shut out.

"We talked," Tony said softly. "While you were out, I wanted us to wait for you, but I was worried that she might clam up. So I let her talk."

The closeness that Tali and Tony shared had been a shock, when Ziva first joined them. Ziva had been on the outside of the in-jokes and memories of her two favourite people.

Soon she would be part of the story, not just in the audience.

"What did she say?" Ziva asked.

The kettle boiled. Tony made the drinks. The bitter smell of coffee filled the apartment. Ziva watched as Tony poured the water over the tea bag.

"She's overwhelmed," Tony said, as he brought the coffee to his lips. "I told her that we all are."

Ziva sank her teeth into her lips.

The steam from her tea rose.

"She's really embarrassed about the accidents," Tony said. "I don't know where that came from. I did everything that google told me to do, when they happened before."

Frantic googling. They had that in common. Tali's early years, had been filled with desperate searches.

6 week old baby non stop crying.

Do babies know their parents are scared?

Six month old baby constipated.

"She says she doesn't want you to be upset with her," Tony continued, his voice cracking. "She wants you to know she is a good girl."

Ziva felt her heart heave. She was glad the tea was still on the counter, if it had been in her hands, it would have ended up on the floor.

"I would never," Ziva started. Her eyes were heavy with tears.

She focused on her daughter's bedroom door, she was ready to storm in there and pull Tali into her arms. She would Tali tight, and promise Tali that she could never disappoint her.

"I know," Tony said. "I think she got confused when she woke up last night, and you were-."

"Did she think my nightmare was her fault?" Ziva interrupted. Her voice shook.

"I'm not sure," Tony said, as he took another sip of coffee, and looked longingly at the pastries in their paper bags. "I don't know what your plan was in terms of explaining things, but I sort of had to go into it. She had night terrors a while ago, l said it was kinda like that."

"Night terrors?" Ziva asked.

"Monsters under the bed," Tony said. "That sort of stuff. It's normal. Oddly enough watching Monsters Inc actually made it worse."

Ziva felt that familiar pain at the bottom of her stomach.

She had missed so much of her daughters life.

"I said that sometimes you get scared too," Tony said quietly. "I think that helped."

"Sometimes I wonder if I should have waited to come home," Ziva said. Her voice cracked. "Perhaps I should have made sure I was better, before I came back. Then, things would have been easier."

"No," Tony said, his voice louder than either of them expected.

"I just missed you two so much," Ziva admitted. Her lips quivered. She had done so well at holding back tears, but she was losing the battle. "I could not stay away."

Tony put his coffee cup on the counter, and walked toward her with open arms. He wrapped his arms around her.

She let out a breath.

"I'm glad you came home when you did," he whispered. "I know it looks like I had everything together, but I was losing it without you."

Ziva stepped back, breaking from the hug.

"But Tali-," she started, as Tony pressed his finger to her lips.

"We were always going to have teething issues," Tony said. "Whether you had come home when she was four or fourteen."

Tony pulled his finger away from her lips.

"Honestly," he said. "I didn't think it'd be like this. I thought we'd have tantrums. Our daughter can throw some magnificent tantrums. There's a few cafes that I can't go back to because of her performances."

A smile crossed her face.

She reached for her necklace. The one Tali had picked for her.

"I got a taste of her attitude," Ziva declared, "When she was younger."

A smile crossed his face.

One day they would share war stories.

"I realised something the other day," Tony said, as he moved further out of their embrace, to collect his coffee. "The tantrums didn't really start until after our first Christmas together, once I finally got her into a routine. Autopsy Gremlin told me that kids don't usually have tantrums unless they trust who they are with, unless they feel safe."

"Do you think Tali does not feel safe with me?" Ziva asked.

Once upon a time, Tali had felt safe in Ziva's arms.

"She knows she is safe with you," Tony said. "But, she's still getting to know you.."

Ziva sucked in a breath. Her ears popped.

The truth hurt much more than all the beatings she had endured.

"She seemed kinda relieved, when she realised that you're finding it hard to adjust as well," Tony said. "Maybe we should start talking with her more about the big stuff. She's pretty perceptive."

A door slammed in Tali's room. Her wardrobe door.

"Tali," Tony called out. "You okay?"

"Yeah," came Tali's muffled reply. "I'm tidying my room."

Tony rolled his eyes.

"That is a bald-face lie," he said.

Ziva let a smile cross her face, and a laugh heave through her.

"Also," he said, lowering his voice. "Her school has a shrink on staff, when we drop her off on Monday, maybe we should drop in and talk to her. She might have some tips."

Ziva nodded, but felt the familiar twist in her gut.

How exactly would they explain their situation?

"We need to go to the office anyway," Tony said. "We'll have to fill out a tree worth of paperwork to get you authorised to pick her up."

Ziva thought of the shiny new US passport Vance had presented to Ziva with the tickets to Paris. He had called in a lot of favours to get the passport.

Coming back from the dead would always be complicated.

"Might as well check in," Tony continued, justifying their plan to himself. "While, we're there. We'll let Tali know what we're doing, don't want her freaking out if a grown up wants a chat."

Ziva pulled out her phone from her pocket.

"She is not the only one who will be speaking with someone," Ziva announced, as she brought up the email app. "I have been making enquiries about therapists. Jack Sloane and Ducky gave me some names. I have made some calls."

Tony took the phone from her hand and looked at the emails.

"When did you do this?" Tony asked, as he handed back the phone to Ziva.

"Yesterday," Ziva said, as she put her phone in her pocket. "While Tali and I were in the park, and you were in the supermarket."

The visit to the park had been an attempt to diffuse the tension in the house. Tali needed to burn off some energy, Ziva needed some fresh air, and all three of them needed food.

Tony volunteered to go hunter gather, as an experiment to see how Tali would react to being left with Ziva alone. Tali had stuck the monkey bars, and kept looking toward the direction Tony had walked in.

They had considered it progress.

"Look at you," Tony trilled. "You've only been home for two weeks, and already mastering the art of multitasking in the park."

Ziva felt her cheeks warm.

"I could see her," Ziva said, the words rushing out. "If she needed me, I would have gone to her."

Tony reached for her shoulder.

"I know," he said, flashing his thousand watt smile, "I've used park time to get admin done, and how do you think I beat the McWriters top score on Words with Friends?"

Relief flooded Ziva.

Then there was a noise in Tali's room. Something fell on the ground.

"No," Tali screamed. "No, no, no!"

"Tali," Tony called, as he raced toward the door.

Ziva followed quickly.

The door swung open, Tali stood in front of her bed, a plastic spray bottle was on the floor, its contents pooling on rug that was shaped like a rainbow.

A musty smell had filled the room. Stagnant water.

"I knew you weren't tidying up," Tony said, as he bent down on the rug, and picked up the bottle.

"I was," Tali said. "I was looking for the spray."

Tony handed the bottle in its pieces to Ziva.

"Monster spray," Ziva read from the faded label.

Tony slowly pulled himself up, bringing the rug with him. Another thing to put through the wash. The washing machine was always running.

"It's for you Ima," Tali said, turning to look at Ziva.

"For me?" Ziva asked, holding up the bottle.

"To make the bad dreams go away," Tali said. "Daddy makes it, he says all Daddies know how to do it."

Ziva raised an eyebrow.

She could not imagine her father making monster spray. Or his.

Ziva, the monsters you imagine are much less scary than the real horrors of the world..

Tony moved closer to Ziva, the rug slung over his shoulder. He plucked the bottle from Ziva's hands.

"I thought we kept this in the bathroom," Tony said. "What's it doing here?"

Tali looked around the room, and rushed toward the tiny desk that was tucked next to her wardrobe. Her room was a maximalist dream. Tali picked up a folded piece of paper.

"I wanted to make a card," Tali said, as she presented Ziva with the card. "You always make cards to go with presents."

Ziva's heart melted, as she opened the paper.

Tali had drawn a picture of three stick figures, a small figure with pigtails in the middle of two bigger figures. Their stick figure arms were all joined together. There were clumsy love hearts drawn around the stick figures.

"It's to make the monsters go away," Tali said, her upper lip wobbled "But it's all gone. I broke it. How will the monsters go away now?"

Tony smiled, a full beam of a smile.

"I'll fix it," Tony said. "You know that Daddies have to keep the recipe a secret for the magic to work. Once I've made more spray, we'll have a snack. Ima went to the bakery on her walk, so we got treats. Then tonight we'll use the spray."

Tali nodded, then she walked toward Tony. She held her hand in front of her mouth, which Ziva knew as Tali's shorthand for wanting to share a secret. Tony put the spray bottle on the bookcase, and bent down.

"Can we spray in my room too?" Tali asked, her voice a stage whisper. "Even though I'm five now, and a big girl."

"Of course," he said. "Even big girls need the monster spray sometimes. Ima is very old, and she still needs it."

Ziva shot him a warning glance.

"I am not as old as Daddy," Ziva said.

Tali's eyes went wide with shock.

"How old is Daddy?" Tali asked, as she walked toward Ziva. Holding her hand to her ear, showing she was ready to hear the secret.

"Daddy would prefer that to remain a secret," Tony declared, as he hovered in the room.

He stared at Ziva, and raised an eyebrow, silently asking if she would be okay. Ziva nodded.

Tony slipped out of the room, collecting the monster spray bottle, Tali and Ziva settled on the too soft bed, sending soft toys plunging to the floor. Ziva pulled her daughter close, and Tali relaxed into the embrace.

This was progress. Progress was all they could ask for.

The little girl's eyes went wide, and then her giggles filled the air, when Ziva revealed exactly how old Tony was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again written Feb/March 2020. I've edited a few typos from the FFN version.


	4. The School Run

Tony tugged at his scarf, in the brightly coloured cloakroom of Tali's school. Tali put her bag in the cubby and stuffed her coat into the tiny cube.

In the hurry, one of her tiny gloves ended up on the floor. She had left her gloves in her pocket today, because it was warmer than usual. Not that Tony really counted a Parisian winter as true winter. Winter in Paris was more like four months of November.

Ziva swooped in and collected the glove, and handed it to Tony.

Another caregiver and their charge, filled their cubby and the child ran into the classroom, dumping his bag on the floor.

Tali lingered.

"You ready, kid?" Tony asked, as he unzipped the pocket on Tali's coat and stuffed the nearly lost glove in there.

He made a mental note to buy another set of gloves. These ones would not last until the Spring.

Tali pressed her feet together, and looked toward the classroom.

Through the open door, a blonde girl was waving at Tali, encouraging her in. Tony knew the girl was the one who sat next to Tali, and invited Tali to her upcoming birthday. For the life of him, Tony could not remember the child's name.

Ziva bent down in front of Tali, and wrapped her arms around Tali. Tali's stiff posture quickly softened.

"Have a good day," Ziva whispered. "We will see you at three."

Tali frowned.

"Youbehere?" Tali asked, her words running into one. "At three."

Ziva stiffened.

They'd had this conversation all morning. In the hurry to get Tali dressed, pull her curls into a the hairstyle she requested, and put some breakfast in her, she had needed to be reassured that her Ima would still be there when the school day let out

"Of course," Ziva said, her voice controlled, like it used to be when interrogations got hairy. "Daddy and I will both be here to pick you up."

Tali looked up toward Tony.

"You promise, Daddy?" Tali asked.

Tony felt his heart heave. Only his reassurance counted.

"Of course," he said as he stepped forward with his pinky out. "I pinky promise that both Ima and I will be here to pick you up."

Tali looped her pinky into his.

Ziva smiled, from her crouched position.

"Pinky promise, Ima?" Tali asked, as she unhooked her pinky from Tony's and extended her hand to Ziva.

Ziva nodded, and offered Tali her pinky.

"I promise, ahuva," Ziva said softly. Their pinky's looped, and their hands shook."We will both be there to pick you up."

More parents and kids filled the tiny cloakroom, only adding to the stuffiness in the tiny room.

Other kids scampered off to class, excitedly talking about their winter breaks. Almost all of the kids had gone away for the two week break, many to other countries in Europe.

Tali had not gone anywhere, but would have the best story from her winter break.

Her Ima had come back home, forever.

"And, when school is over, we'll go on an adventure," Tony announced.

Ziva looked up at him with an eyebrow raised. Excitement dawned on Tali's face. Her eyes were bright.

"An adventure?" Ziva asked.

"Yes," Tony said with a shrug. "I'm gonna take my two favourite ladies on a secret adventure."

He was going to save ice cream day for later in the week, but needs must.

"A secret adventure," Tali echoed excitedly.

"Yep," Tony replied. "But first you need to go to school."

Tali nodded, and looked at the classroom, with its open door. More kids had shuffled in, and Tali's little blonde friend was still waiting for her.

Ziva wrapped Tali in another hug, and kissed her on the cheek.

"Have a good day," Ziva declared. "I love you."

Tali smiled.

"I love you too," Tali said, her words a little shaky. Soon, Tony hoped, they would be said with ease.

Ziva pulled herself up, and Tali reached for Tony.

One of the other parents from Tali's class looked over the scene, with her eyebrow trying to meet her hairline, and pursed lips.

There would be a lot of explaining to do.

Tali wrapped her arms around Tony.

"I'm proud of you," he said. "Have a good day. I love you more than movies."

A smile broke out on Tali's face, as Tony played their old game. Once, when during a lazy afternoon spent watching movies, Tony had started listing all of his favourite things, and how he loved Tali more than anything.

When Tali started nursery school, he had told her he loved her more than movies, thus starting their little ritual for every school drop off.

"Love you more than rainbows," she replied, as she let go. "And more than dogs."

Tali really loved rainbows. And dogs. And movies.

She gave her parents a final wave, and walked into her classroom. The blonde girl from earlier ran straight to her, with an excited expression. Tony would really should learn her name.

The lady from earlier, started to move toward Tony. Tony braced himself.

Being a single man at this school made him a bit of a curiosity.

Before the woman reached Tony, he felt a woosh of air. He looked toward the door, and saw Ziva's dark curls rushing toward the door.

Tony waved at Tali, but she was already busy, no doubt telling her friend that her Ima had come home forever and ever.

Tony rushed toward the exit following Ziva.

Ziva had not gone very far, he found her standing outside pressing her hands into her thighs, and leaning forward, like she had run a marathon.

"Ziva," he said softly, as he reached her. Her face was red, and her eyes were glassy. "You okay?"

His question was redundant. She clearly wasn't.

Ziva nodded once, but it quickly turned into her shaking her head.

Tony reached for her back, and rubbed it. Her shoulders were hard with tension.

"I know that was hard," Tony said, keeping his voice low and soft. "I was a mess the first time I dropped Tali off."

Ziva reached her hand under her scarf and fingered the necklace she kept around her neck.

Just like she used to do with her old star of David, she would fiddle with this necklace when she needed centering.

"I know it was hard today, with all of her questions," Tony continued. "But, Tali will stop asking if you're gonna be there, eventually."

Ziva sucked in a deep breath.

"It is not just that," Ziva said. "I mean, yes it hurts every single time she asks, but it is to be expected."

Tony moved closer to her. He wrapped his arm around her. Her tense shoulders started to soften.

"Still," Tony said softly, dragging out the word. "Something's spooked you."

"It was so crowded in there," she said, her voice shaky. "Sometimes, I do not do well with crowds."

So this was the panic she had first told him about, during those hurried twenty-three hours together in Cairo, while they watched Tali's tiny chest rise and fall, in her sleep.

I am not the same person you left in Israel, she had said her eyes focused on Tali, taking in everything that had changed in their four months apart.

I'm not the same guy who left you in Israel, he had replied.

He had seen glimpses of panic since Ziva had come home. The struggle with sleep. The way she flinched when Tony slammed the lower kitchen cupboard to get it to close properly. The way she always kept a hand on Tali's shoulder when the trio rode the metro.

"So this is the panic?" He asked.

Ziva nodded and tried to swallow her lower lip.

"I know today is different," Ziva started. Her voice was still shaky. "But, my mind keeps going back to the last time I walked away from Tali."

"When you sent her to me?" He asked, struggling to keep his voice neutral. Now, was not the time to bring up that part of their past.

"It was the first time I had been away from her," Ziva admitted. "And, when I gave her to Adam, so much was unknown. I did not know when, or even if I would ever see her again."

Tony felt his chest tighten.

"I did not know if Adam would be able to get her to you safely," Ziva said. "Or if-".

"Did you worry I would reject her?" he asked, interrupting her.

Ziva's mouth hung open for a moment before she spoke.

"No," she said, as a beat passed between them. "I never feared that. I knew you would always keep her safe."

His throat burned, as long buried anger tried to rise up.

They would have this conversation, just not now.

Not when they were in public. Not when they had an appointment with Tali's school shrink in thirty minutes. Not when Ziva was still getting used to sitting still.

"Keeping the two of you apart was never about you," Ziva said, her voice soft. "It was about me."

"We'll talk about it, right?" He asked. "When you are in a better head space?"

"Of course," Ziva said, as she looked down at her feet.

They stood huddled together in the playground. Other harried caregivers rushed their charges to their classrooms.

"This panic," Ziva started. "The attacks started when I sent Tali away, but the seeds had been there for a long time."

Tony felt that ache in his chest again. There had been so much heartache for all three of them.

"At my appointment tomorrow," Ziva uttered. "I will talk about how to manage it better. I cannot have my pain continue to affect you and Tali. I need to be the best mother and partner I can be."

Tony shook his head.

"We are so glad to have you home," Tony said. "That's all that matters. We'll work through the rest."

Ziva gave him a soft smile.

"You are so wise," she said. "So mature."

"I wasn't always," he said, with a scoff. "I've had a lot of time to think over these last few years."

Ziva's eyes flitted around.

"You okay?" He asked already knowing the answer.

"I will be," Ziva replied. "We need to go to the office, yes?"

"Yeah," he said. "Can I say something first?"

"Of course," Ziva said.

"A part of me will always wish we had done this in the more traditional way, with Tali having both of us all of the time," he said, keeping his eyes fixed on her. "But another part of me is glad I had to do these years solo. If we had been together when she came along, I probably would still be pulling eighty hour weeks at NCIS, and I would have missed out on so much. Tali and I are so close. I don't know if I would have had that if this happened another way."

Ziva's eyes started to well up.

"I was a mess when I dropped her off for the first time," Tony announced, as the memories flowed back. "Thank god we're in Paris where a grown man can cry in the street."

A smile rose through Ziva.

"Will you tell me all about it?" Ziva asked.

Tony took her hand, and they started to amble toward the office. They passed huge windows, with brightly coloured classrooms serving as stage, and the kids getting older the closer they got to the office.

"What do you want to know?" He asked.

"Everything," Ziva said softly. "How did you choose to send her here? Was she clingy on her first day? When I allowed myself to think of the two of you, I always wondered about these things."

Tony sucked in a breath, then let it out.

"Well they do a preschool here," Tony said, as he remembered those long but wonderful days he and Tali used to spend together. "And, when Tali was three I started to worry that she wasn't socializing enough. I mean I took her to every toddler music class this side of the Seine, but that's not the same. So I started looking for a nursery, I didn't want her to start school not knowing how to make friends. I wanted to keep things as normal for her as possible."

Everything had been for her.

Ziva gave him a sad smile. He knew she was blaming herself.

"I know if you were the one who was left behind, while I was chasing bad guys, you would have enrolled her in the neighbourhood preschool with all the other local kids, and she would be this perfect little beret wearing French kid," Tony said, feeling suddenly hot under his coat. "But, I stuck out in the playground as a solo Dad, and stuck out even more as an American. So when I found this place I signed right up for an info pack. I wanted to be able to help with her homework, without using google translate. You really don't wanna know how much we pay for that privilege."

Tali went to an international school, where the tuition cost more than Tony had made in his first years out of college.

"I could have started her right away," Tony said, as he tugged at his scarf. "But, I waited until after she turned four. I didn't want her to be the youngest kid in the class. And, I think a part of me was hoping that you would be home by then, and we could decide this together. I probably should have done more research."

He had just picked the first place that looked good, and hoped Tali liked it.

"She is happy here, yes?" Ziva asked.

"Yeah," she said. "Going from the nursery class to kindergarten was a bit of a jump, but she's okay now."

"And she has lots of friends?" Ziva asked.

"Oh yeah," Tony said. "You saw all those birthday invites on the fridge."

"That is all I ever wanted for her," Ziva said softly. "When I thought about her going to school. I just wanted her to be happy and to make lots of friends."

"I think she's learning stuff too," Tony said. "At least I hope she is."

"She is very smart," Ziva said, with a huge smile. "I know we are biased, but I think she is very smart. She always was when she was a baby."

Tony felt the gut punch of that, but he let the pain float away. Getting angry wouldn't change a thing.

"I will never judge you for the decisions you made when it was just you and Tali," Ziva said, as she squeezed his hand, having noticed his change in his expression. "I asked so much from you."

"I would do it all over again," came his reply, and it wasn't a lie.

Ziva shuffled her weight between her left foot and her right foot.

"If it means anything, I think that you made the right decision," she said, as a smile moved through her. "Can you tell me about her first day?"

Her words meant a lot.

"Her first day was the fall after she turned four," Tony said, as the memories came flooding back. "The nursery class had this orientation week, where you slowly build up to leaving right after drop-off. On the first day she was a little shy, on the second day she was a little clingy, and by the third day she was waving me off with a bye Daddy."

Ziva nodded. A slow nod.

These things would always be bittersweet.

"I was a mess that day," Tony said. "I hadn't left her with anyone but Dad in two years, and that was only ever for a couple of hours. There's a cafe and a supermarket on the next block, I spent all day going between the two with my phone on its loudest setting."

He needed to be close enough to run to her.

What if she needed him?

Ziva reached for his arm, and held it.

"I got better," Tony said. "By winter break of that year, I was able to go all the way home."

He watched Ziva's face, as she took it all in. She wore a soft smile, but her eyes were far away.

"I knew she was safe here, and okay," Tony started, as he looked toward the building. "But, I was always looking over my shoulder."

Ziva stopped, and sucked in a deep breath.

"The threat was never to you and Tali," she said. Her voice was low. "I made sure of that."

"I know," he said with a shrug. "Old habits, I guess."

Ziva reached up for the tote bag that was hanging off her shoulder. Inside were all the documents she needed, to be authorised to pick Tali up from school.

Tony looked across the courtyard.

There was a line of adults outside the office.

"It's the cop in me," Tony said, as he led Ziva to the bench outside of the office. It was damp. So they did not sit, but just stood in front of it. "Is there anything you want to know before I introduce you to French bureaucracy?"

"Yes," Ziva said, as she looked at her shoes. "What did you tell people about me, about my absence?"

"Not a lot," he admitted, remembering the last birthday party he had lingered on the edge of. Another Dad, had asked Tony if he was babysitting, and Tony had replied that parenting wasn't babysitting, and he was currently flying solo, so he never got a day off. "Whenever someone asked, I usually just said not here, and left it at that."

"What about Tali?" Ziva asked, raising her eyebrow. "Were the other children not curious about her lack of mother?"

"The under-six crowd are pretty chill," Tony said, with a shrug. "Tali said she only lived with her Dad, and that was that."

"I am glad for that I suppose," Ziva said, her lips turning downward. "She has been through so much disruption."

"There's probably gonna be some questions, now that you're home," Tony said, remembering the woman with the curious look in the cloakroom. "I'm sure we're being gossiped about, but none of that matters."

"Is that really all that you told people?" Ziva asked.

"Tali's doctor is probably the only one who knows more," Tony admitted. "I had to explain that I wasn't there for Tali's first couple of years, and that I couldn't call you to ask about your medical history. I'm not sure if she thought it was a Kramer Versus Kramer situation or something darker."

"What about here?" Ziva asked, as she waved her hand around. "What did you tell the school?"

"That I did not have a number for another adult who could be called in an emergency, at least not locally," Tony said, remembering the difficult discussion at the office, where he had put his Dad's number down as an emergency contact, and admitted there was no one closer to home. He remembered that sinking feeling in the bottom of his stomach. It had just been him and Tali for so long. "That you and Tali had no contact and I was the only one authorised to pick her up."

Ziva sucked in a breath.

"They know I used to be a special agent, and I always got really quiet when they asked, so I am sure there are a through theories floating around," Tony said, as he scratched his nose. This rainy winter made his skin itchy. "You know I probably wouldn't have gotten as much flack if I was a single mom, but I try not to think about that."

"And now we can tell the truth," Ziva said, forcing a smile on her face. "No more secrets."

"Yeah," he replied. "And, we'll talk to the shrink. We'll make sure Tali has some support. We're gonna be okay."

A big group came out of the double doors of the office. A man, a woman in a magnificently bright fuchsia coat, a dowdy looking woman who was definitely the nanny, and two bratty looking kids who wore their boredom on their face.

"We better go in," Tony announced. "That line is only getting longer. School will be out before we fill out all of the paperwork."

"I do have one more question," Ziva said as she moved toward the double door.

"Not another one," he said, with a dramatic sigh, doing his best impression of Tali when she'd had enough. Ziva smiled at him, and let out a laugh. Tony laughed with her. Another stone faced adult walked past them, their lips pursed. "All right, one last question."

"Where are we going for this secret adventure?" Ziva asked, with the same bright eyes he'd seen in Tali earlier.

"Nuh-uh, I'm not telling you," Tony said, shaking his head dramatically. "It's a surprise for both my leading ladies, so I ain't telling."

He wondered if Ziva's favourite flavour was still French vanilla.


	5. Two Steps Forward, One Step Back

Ziva lifted the lid off the pan, and felt the steam rush to her face. The pasta, shaped like animals, for the joy of the youngest member of the household, floated in the water. Ziva placed the lid back onto the pan, and waited for the pot to boil over again.

She looked from the kitchen to the closed door of Tali's bedroom. She could hear muffled voices, but had no chance of hearing the words that were being said.

Ziva turned back to dinner. The thick tomato sauce had tiny pieces of vegetables hidden in it, but Ziva already knew that Tali could find the smallest slither of vegetable, even in the thickest sauce.

The pot boiled over again.

Ziva took a deep breath. Filling her belly, and let it out slowly.

In and out.

Inhale and exhale.

Her skin itched, a sign that the panic had not yet dissipated. Her new therapist had suggested Ziva go for a walk after an anxiety attack. Her flight and fight system was in overdrive, and she needed to move to finish the cycle, with movement.

Ziva looked to Tali's closed door, and then to the front door.

If she left now, even temporarily, it would only make things worse.

Tali's door opened.

"I'm going to talk to Ima," Tony told Tali. "Then we'll all have dinner. Why don't you have some quiet time?"

Tali's door was closed, and Tony stepped out, before Ziva could hear Tali's response.

Tony made his way across the living area to the kitchen, and Ziva noticed he was still wearing his coat. As soon as he had come home, he had gone straight to Tali's room.

Ziva turned down the heat. Little bubbles of water slipped from the pot.

Tony pulled off his coat, and dumped it on a chair.

"Come here," Tony said with open arms.

Ziva checked on dinner, and moved toward him.

Tony's arms wrapped around her. He held her tight. She was safe. Secure.

"Is she okay?" Ziva asked, as she looked up at him. His eyes betrayed him, he was exhausted.

He carried the weight of their little family on his shoulders.

"She is," Tony said. "She's sorry for freaking out."

Ziva had picked Tali up from school solo that afternoon. It had not been planned. Ziva and Tony had gone their separate ways after drop-off, Ziva to therapy and Tony had given himself some much needed time to himself.

Ziva had arrived at the metro stop closest to Tali's school with over an hour to spare. Tony had gotten stuck on a train, that was in a tunnel. The metro system was still dealing with the after effects of the strike.

Ziva had made sure to stand in the front of the crowd of caregivers for pick-up, but she had still watched as Tali looked around. Her eyes moving right over Ziva. Even when Tali found Ziva, her eyes had focused on the space next to Ziva, where Tony should have been.

Then the questions started.

Where's Daddy?

Did you make Daddy go away?

Each question was repeated over and over, with no space for Ziva to answer.

Where's Daddy?

Each time she spoke, Tali became more and more upset. Her lip wobbled. Big gloopy tears fell down her face. Words got lost in her sobs.

Other parents studied the scene from a safe distance.

Ziva's cheeks reddened, and she answered Tali's questions delicately.

Your father is on a train, it is in a tunnel.

He will meet us at home.

Tali was not satisfied.

I want Daddy! Not you.

Those words had hurt Ziva more than any bullet ever did. More than the endless hours that brought Tali into the world. More than the knife that left the new scar on her wrist.

I want Daddy.

Her little hands had formed into fists.

Daddy. Daddy.

Ziva had brought this child into the world, and yet was nothing.

Other parents lingered longer than usual but none stepped in. Ziva was used to their stares now. The American man, the one they all thought was a single Dad, had come back from winter break with a mystery woman that they all referred to as the child's mother. Tony and Ziva were a popular gossip topic.

One of the teachers walked across the playground. Her lanyard bouncing, and her heels clicking.

The teacher was going to see what a terrible mother Ziva was. How she had lost control.

He will be there when we get home. Let's go. Now.

Ziva reached for Tali's wrist, and held a little too tightly. Tali had squirmed out of Ziva's hold.

The panic had bubbled over.

Ziva needed to get out of there. She needed to get them to a safe place. She needed to get them home.

Tali's teacher had by then reached them, and was whispering calming words in accented English. Ziva hoped the woman knew enough of their story, not to think something bad was actually happening.

Tali continued to ask for her father. Ziva explained the situation. Showing Tony's texts from earlier.

The teacher had bent in front of Tali and explained what Ziva had said.

Ima and Daddy, Tali continued to whine. I need Ima and Daddy. No just Ima. No just Daddy.

Then a text had flashed across Ziva's screen. Tony was out of the metro, and was thirty minutes from home. His plan was to jump in a taxi.

Ziva had pressed the call button, and not bothering to explain the situation to Tony, had thrust the phone next to Tali's ear.

Tali started to talk to Tony, and calmed down. Her tears stopped, and she started to breath between words.

Ziva and the teacher had shared a look.

Change is hard, the teacher had said, but Ziva felt the judgement in her tone. She has support here. Your whole family does.

What sort of mother leaves her child?

What sort of mother could be so rejected by her child?

Once Tali was calmed, Ziva had taken her hand and walked out of the schoolyard.

Tali had held onto the phone chatting away to Tony, on the whole walk home.

Tali told Tony all about her day, about the sticker she got for reading, about her friend Sabrina, and about the new boy who was from America.

On the few occasions she had allowed herself to imagine life once she and Tali were reunited, she had imagined her and Tali walking home from school and sharing secrets and giggles. Just like it had been for Ziva and her own mother.

Ziva wanted desperately to be part of her daughter's world, yet Tali still held her at arm's length.

"Are you okay?" Tony asked, dragging her back into the present.

"Tali is okay," Ziva said, as the pot boiled over. "That is all that matters."

She untangled herself from Tony, and rushed to the stovetop.

"No," Tony said. "That's not all that matters. This is new to all of us, but we're all making adjustments."

Ziva took the lid off the pasta. The pasta was done. She turned it right down.

She checked the sauce. It still needed time.

They all still needed time.

There were some deep wounds that needed to heal.

"I thought we were doing better," Ziva said, as she opened the lower cupboard in search of a colander. The cupboard was a mess.

Once, they were sufficiently adjusted, Ziva would organise the kitchen to her liking.

"So did I," Tony said, as he reached up to the cupboard above the fridge, and revealed the colander. "Pick-ups have been fine all week."

Ziva shook her head, as she took it from him.

She would be organising this kitchen. Soon.

"She is still getting used to me," Ziva said, as she balanced the colander in the sink. "I know that. It just hurt. She trusted her teacher more than she trusted me."

"It's not like that," he said. "She just got confused. We both said we'd be there to pick her up, then I got stuck on the train. I wasn't there, that's why she was upset."

"It is not your fault," Ziva said.

"Maybe not," he said. "But, I never missed a pick-up, I can see why she got spooked. I wanted to be there, she's always so chatty after pick up."

Ziva adjusted the colander again.

"I was looking forward to that," Ziva admitted. "I wanted to hear her stories first."

Tony looked down at his shoes.

"Do you feel excluded?" Tony asked. "With me and Tali."

"You have been there for the last three years," Ziva said. "It is natural that Tali goes to you first. It is natural for you two to be closer."

Ziva checked the stove, and lifted the pot off the stove. She moved the few feet to the sink and poured the water over the colander.

It splashed violently, and the steam clouded the tiny window above the sink.

"You know when I was trapped underground with half of Paris, I was thinking that we should split up the school run," Tony said. "I haven't gotten up later than 0600, in nearly four years. I could do with a sleep-in."

The steam dissipated.

"If we let Tali know in advance," Tony continued. "I think she'd be okay with it."

"So I do drop offs, and you do pick up?" Ziva asked.

Tali was grumpy in the mornings, and drop offs were a rushed affair. Pick-ups were slower and calmer. Tali always had so many stories after school.

"That would be nice," Tony said, "But it would not be fair."

"Very little of these last few years have been fair," Ziva said.

Not fair to Ziva. Not fair to Tony. And, most unfair to Tali.

"Maybe not," Tony said. "But, I was thinking we'd play it by ear, still do most of the school runs together. You can have pick up on Wednesdays, that's dance day."

"That starts again next week, yes?" Ziva asked, as she shook the water off the pasta.

"Oh yeah," Tony said. "You're in for a treat."

"What do you mean?" Ziva asked, as she moved across the kitchen and lifted the lid off the other pot. The sauce was almost done.

"Some of the Moms there are definitely projecting their own issues onto their little ballerinas," Tony said, "And, I really stand out there. There are no ballet Dads."

Ziva stirred the sauce.

"I did ballet," Ziva said. "When I was her age."

Did she still remember the steps?

"I know," Tony said, as he moved across the kitchen. He lifted the colander from the sink, and held it up. "You wanted to be a ballerina."

Ziva felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Tony knew her so well.

"I thought you two could share this," Tony said. "And, I think you'll do her hair better. I never got that right."

"Curls are hard to style," Ziva said. Tali's curls were more waves, than the tight curls Ziva had as a child.

"Don't I know it," Tony said.

"Do you think Tali will be okay with this?" Ziva asked.

"I already asked," Tony said. "She'd like that. She was very impressed when she found out you used to dance."

Tony held the pasta over the sauce, and slowly tipped the shells in.

"You see what we got here is a failure to communicate," Tony said, in his best southern accent.

Ziva rolled her eyes, and then slipped to a smile, and stirred the pasta.

She had missed this. She had missed him.

"I think it'll be good for you two to have time to get to know each other," Tony said. "It'll probably be good for me too."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"I've been her everything, from the moment I saw her in Vances office," Tony said, as he looked toward her door. "Except for school, and a couple of times with Dad, I've never left her with anyone else. I'm always the first parent there for pick-up, because I know what it's like to be looking for someone who isn't there."

His own childhood left scars he wanted to spare his daughter.

"You are a good father," Ziva whispered.

Tony shook his head.

"I just give her whatever she needs from me," Tony said. "I love her, more than anything, but it was so good to have some time to myself today."

"What did you do today?" Ziva asked.

The night before, when they were checking Tali's school bag, for permission slips and the gloves she had lost. Tony had been surprised to find, he had no life admin to do. The pantry was full. The laundry was done. The bathroom was clean. Even with an extra person in the house, their little life was much easier to manage with a second adult.

While Ziva had a mid-morning therapy session, her second. And, Tony had the day completely to himself.

"I went to the movies," Tony said sheepishly. "I've missed surround sound, and seeing characters that aren't animated."

Ziva stirred the pasta into the sauce.

"And, it was really good to have time to myself," Tony said. "When I was in Philadelphia, there was this sergeant who spent all day complaining about how his wife was so lazy and boring, now that she was a stay at home mom. Gotta say, I see it from her point of view now."

Ziva sucked in a deep breath. Tali's early days came back to her. Those milk soaked nights, when Tali would wail and wail, and Ziva longed for someone to talk to, who could talk back.

She had always banished those thoughts of loneliness, as quickly as they came. She had made her choices.

She had sent him away.

"It is probably good for us too," Ziva said softly. "A month ago we were not even on the same continent. This morning I was ready to kill you for not putting your shoes away."

"You didn't hear me curse you out for moving Tali's cereal," Tony said, flashing his thousand watt grin. "But, yeah we need to let things settle.."

There had been more than a few tense moments. Their little apartment did not provide many places to hide.

"We talked about self care in therapy today," Ziva said. "Things always feel better if I go for a walk in the morning. I would like to make more time for that."

That day had only been her second therapy. The focus was still on getting Ziva to the point where she could start to work through the mess of the last six years.

She had a prescription for anti anxiety medication, and was working on self care rituals.

"I get it," Tony said. "Now that you're home, I realise I've kinda spent the last few years in survival mode. It was the best feeling, just to be able sit there and not have to worry about anything."

Ziva's chest hurt. She had caused so much pain.

How could he ever forgive her?

"I will take my daily walks," Ziva said, "And, you will have your weekly movies. It will be our routine."

"They say routine is good for kids," Tony said, as he collected the plates from the cupboard. "It will be good for us, too."

"Yes," Ziva said, as she got the knives and forks from the drawer. "Do you think it will be good for Tali?"

"Having two parents who are in a good place has to count for something," Tony offered. "She'll get it when she's older."

Ziva worried about what would happen as Tali grew older, and her questions became more nuanced. When she would be able to pick through her parents half truths, and lies of omission.

Could Tali ever really understand?

That was one of the many things she had made a list to talk about with her therapist. That list ran over two pages. There was so much that she needed to unpack, parts of her past from long before Tali was born.

Less than a month ago, Ziva's life had been a fight to survive, and now she was trying to fit into her family.

"Sometimes," Ziva started. "I worry about how we will explain all of this to her, when she is older. My mother always tried to keep so many things from us. I'm not sure if hiding these things "

Tony frowned.

"Well it's always gonna be there," Tony said, after a long pause, "But, we won't hide things from her. We'll keep telling her our story, and go into a bit more detail each time. She'll get it eventually. She'll know how much you sacrificed for her."

Ziva would not call it a sacrifice.

She would call it an impossible choice, made over another impossible choice.

There was that idiom about rocks, and hard places.

"You make it sound easy," Ziva whispered.

"It won't be," Tony said, "But we'll get through it. We always do."

Ziva wanted to say more. She wanted to poke holes in his optimism, but didn't. She decided she would have faith. She would believe.

They would get through this. They would build a happy family.

"Daddy, Ima," Tali's voice called from her now opened door. "Me starvin' like Lee Marvin."


	6. Always Together

Tony adjusted his tote bag hanging off his shoulder. His 'quick shop', while Ziva had been at therapy, had involved a detour to the chemist. There was a virus in Asia, and Tony wanted to make sure that their little family had enough to survive isolation, if one of the many tourists who visited the city of love brought an unwelcome guest.

He never worried about this stuff before Tali was in his life.

Now he worried too much. Ziva had reminded him that they just had to be a little more vigilant about washing their hands, but Tony had gone whole hog. He had masks for each member of their little family, and enough hand sanitizer to survive the apocalypse.

He had to protect his family.

Good fathers protected their family.

He checked the time on his phone, and watched as people emerged from the metro station.

The first person, a young man, who was clearly a native Parisian in his impeccable outfit. Behind him, there was a clump of business people wearing suits and etched in frowns. Then a group of backpackers stepped out, and looked around with huge smiles on their faces.

Tony had been in this city for three years now and there were still rare times where he was awed by the beauty of the city. Most of the time, when he emerged from the metro, he was just glad the trip was over, and that Tali hadn't freaked out in the crowd.

The group of backpackers huddled together blocking the metro entrance. Tony tried to guess the language they were speaking, but could not put a country to the Slavic sounds.

An old lady with a walking stick, and a shopping trolley that she pulled along like a suitcase, started to shout at them, and the tourists moved slightly.

Then he saw her.

Ziva walked out of the metro, with her curls hanging over her shoulders, and cradling a bunch of flowers like a baby. The bright yellow flowers peaked out from their paper blanket.

He watched as she took a deep breath. Sometimes the metro made her anxiety spike, but she pushed through.

Their eyes met, and a smile washed over Ziva's face.

Tony walked forward, and once Ziva was close enough, he placed a kiss on her lips.

The kiss caught her by surprise, but she kissed back. His arm snaked around her waist. She started to loosen up.

"What was that for?" Ziva asked, as the kiss broke, and she looked up at him. He noticed the tear streaks down her face.

The flowers had been squashed by their embrace, but Ziva did not seem to care.

"We're in Paris," Tony said softly. "If a guy can't kiss his girl when she gets off the train in Paris, where can he?"

"So I am your girl?" Ziva asked.

"Are we really gonna have that conversation?" Tony asked. "We have a five and a half year old."

"Yes we do," Ziva said with a smile. "But, we did not exactly do that in the most conventional way."

At pick-up the other day, one of the more nosy parents had fished for information under the guise of inviting Tali to a birthday party.

That woman, the woman had asked, can we give her the invitation.

Tali's mother, Tony had replied as he watched for Tali. Sure you can ask her, her name is Ziva.

"No," Tony said. "But, I love you. I've loved you for a very long time. We're finally raising our kid together."

Ziva smiled.

Since Ziva had come home, the focus had rightfully been on Tali. Now, the little family were starting to fall into a routine. Tali spent time with her parents together, and Tali spent time with each of them apart.

Senior was due to join them for an extended visit at the end of the month, and Tony hoped that he and Ziva might be able some time out for themselves. Preferably an evening, because Tony wanted to do something that he and Ziva had never officially done in all the time they had known each other.

He wanted to take her on a date.

He wanted to take her on the best date ever.

"I still refer to you as my partner," Ziva admitted. "Though I suppose the definition of partner has evolved over time."

"It certainly has," Tony replied.

A gang of youths, that looked like they walked out of a Nike catalogue walked up the steps of the metro, and Tony realised another train had come. He slowly guided Ziva away from the entrance.

They still had forty minutes until Tali's school let out.

"How was today?" Tony asked, as he took Ziva's hand, they slowly started to walk in the direction of Tali's school.

"Tough," Ziva admitted, as she looked down at the flowers. "But, I knew it would be."

Ziva's therapy sessions were currently twice a week, on Tuesdays and Thursdays. She was always a little raw after them. He knew enough to tread carefully. Ziva had years of trauma to unpack.

He also could see that the sessions were helpful. Ziva seemed lighter, and was starting to sleep better. The anti-anxiety medication had started to kick in, and while Ziva did not enjoy the side effects, she was less on edge.

"Is that why you brought the flowers?" he asked.

Ziva's footfall slowed. She looked down at the yellow buds. They contrasted so greatly with the grey sky.

"Yes," Ziva admitted. "I needed something bright. A reminder that spring is coming."

"They're pretty," Tony said. "Tali will like them, yellow is her third favourite colour. Do we have a vase?"

"Yes," Ziva said softly. "I found one when I organised the kitchen."

While Tony had been skyping McGee, learning all about the younger man's impending vasectomy, Ziva had gone to town on the kitchen, finally organising it to her liking.

Tony would never admit it, but Ziva's organisation actually helped the tiny space, making getting Tali ready for school much easier.

It had been a week since Tali had freaked out when only Ziva turned up for pick-up, and the little family had developed a routine. Most days, Tali was dropped off and picked up by both her parents. On Wednesdays, Ziva picked Tali up, and they went to ballet, and Tony took some much needed time out. On Mondays, Tony did pick-up solo, because Tali had deemed it fair that she have one day with just Ima, and one day with just Daddy.

"Okay," Tony said, "We'll make sure to get them in some water."

They crossed the road quickly, and her hand slipped out of his.

"So how was your day?" Ziva asked, as they turned the corner.

Tony noticed the backpackers from earlier, standing in front of a cafe and shouting at each other in their native language.

"Good," Tony said, "I brought some supplies, checked in with McSnipped, and sent through the documents to the accountant."

The account who handled his US tax return would be bowled over by his punctuality this year.

"How is Tim?" Ziva asked.

"Sore," Tony replied. "But only a little, I think he's enjoying having a couple of days at home. He admits he was being a bit dramatic about the whole thing."

"I am surprised you are being so grown up about it," Ziva said. "You always used to give him so much grief about his personal life."

"I'm older now," Tony retorted. "More mature."

"Yes," Ziva said. "You have certainly changed."

"Besides, it sounds like that not-so-new-guy Nick stole all of my lines," Tony said.

"Nick is a good man," Ziva said. "He has just not realised it yet. He reminds me a little of a younger you."

Tony felt his cheeks burn.

She knew him so well.

"Sure," Tony said, brushing it off. "Anyway, he was only giving McScaredycat crap, because he's never spent three days stuck in an apartment with a sick two year old. No wonder Delilah was done, I do not even want to imagine having two sick kids at once."

Ziva stood still. Tony looked at her, and saw the familiar stricken look on her face.

Talking about the parts the other was not there for, would always be bittersweet.

"I take it our daughter is still dramatic when she is sick?" Ziva asked, as she looked down at her flowers.

"Oh yeah," Tony said, with a smirk. "Why do you think I brought half the pharmacy? If this virus from Asia ends up here, it's gonna be an all hands on deck situation."

"You know she gets this from you," Ziva said with a smile.

"She does not," Tony cried out, as he dramatically held his hand on his chest.

"You used to freak out over every mole," Ziva said, keeping her voice calm. "And, every time you so much as sneezed you would remind everyone that you had the plague once."

"I did have the plague," Tony said, "Besides, we can't all be like you and brush off a bullet wound like it's a paper cut."

Ziva did a sort of half laugh.

Tony felt a smile warm his own face.

It was good to joke like this. Like they used to when they were working crime scenes, or sitting in DC's endless traffic.

Things were finally starting to feel normal.

Ziva had been home just under a month, and they were finally finding their feet.

"No," Ziva said, as she looked down at the flowers again. "I never want Tali to think that is okay. I want her to always know how to treat herself kindly. To give herself a chance to heal."

Tony let out a deep breath.

The therapy session had definitely been a big one.

"She will," Tony said softly.

They turned another corner, and reached the row of shops that were closest to Tali's school. Tony recognised a group of nannies, standing and gossiping in front of the supermarket, while their younger charges napped in their strollers.

Tony knew many of these cafes intimately. During Tali's first few weeks at nursery, he had moved between them, wanting to be close enough to run to her, if she needed him.

He was all she had. He had to be close.

The old lady he had seen barrel out of the metro, was standing in front of one of the bakeries with a cigarette hanging out of her mouth.

"Shall we get some after school snacks?" Tony asked, as he looked through the window of his favourite patisserie.

Ziva rolled her eyes.

"We will do healthy snacks for the rest of the week," she countered.

Technically, there was only one more day left of the school week, but Tony felt it best not to remind Ziva of that.

Tony opened the door, and let Ziva into the bakery. The little bell chimed as they reached the nearly empty cabinet.

All that remained in the glass case was three chocolate croissants.

"It's fate," Tony stage whispered, as he pointed them out.

Ziva ordered the croissants in perfect French, and slipped them into her messenger bag. They would not be safe with Tony.

Quickly, they found themselves in the cool winter air with a bit of time to kill.

"I'm getting the vibe that today was a really tough session," he said, after a few quiet seconds.

They shuffled along, deciding to walk around the block, while they waited for school to finish.

"It was," Ziva said. "There were actually some things that came up today that I would like to talk to you about."

"That sounds ominous," Tony said, wishing he had the pastry to bite into.

"I want to make good on some promises I have made," Ziva said.

In Cairo, while Tali slept and the two of them had watched her. Ziva had promised him that she would explain all of it to him, when it was safe. Tony had made her promise she would come back.

We'll be in Paris, waiting for you, he had said as Tali started to stir.

"You came back," Tony said, as they turned the corner. "That's all the matters."

"I owe you an explanation about why I did not tell you about Tali straight away," Ziva replied. "I like to keep my promises."

Tony could see Tali's school from where they stood.

"Yeah," he said, his words little more than a whisper. "I'd like us to talk about it one day, but only when you're ready. Whatever you say, it won't change anything."

"How can you say that?" Ziva asked.

"I've made peace with what happened," Tony said. "We'll never be able to change it. Accept the things you cannot change, and all of that."

"I still think we should have the conversation," Ziva said. "Soon. Before, we get too ahead of ourselves."

"What do you mean by that?" he asked.

"My reasons for keeping Tali from you, they were selfish," Ziva said, "I know we have been becoming reacquainted lately. I do not want my reasons to impact that."

It took Tony a minute to understand what she said.

The surprise when he kissed her. The suggestion that had been made during their first few days together that Ziva get her own apartment. The promise Ziva had made, that whatever happened she would never come between Tony and Tali.

"Ziva," he said, "I've already forgiven you. I want us to talk about it, because we said we'd put everything out in the open, but whatever you tell me, it's not going to change us. I love you. We're doing this together for the rest of our lives."

Ziva looked down at her flowers.

"You have forgiven me?" she asked.

Tony nodded.

"Yeah," Tony said. "When Tali and I finally settled down here, Ducky sent me the details of a therapist. He thought I probably needed to talk to someone to make sense of everything. I only ever went to a few sessions, because I didn't have anyone that I could leave Tali with, and there was only so long she would sit in a corner and behave. We spent a lot of time hashing over why you didn't tell me. I came up with some crackpot theories."

The therapist office came back to him. Tali occupied by a tablet, even though Tony had read something about how screentime damaged kids. The therapist's suggestion that Tony find childcare.

Maybe she didn't think I'd be a good father, Tony had said as he soothed an exhausted Tali on his lap. Maybe, if Ziva hadn't had to go, I would have never found out about her.

"Anyway, the therapist kept reminding me that I couldn't change anything. You were gone. I'd never have answers." Tony said, his voice cracking. "I couldn't tell him you were alive, but even so as Tali and I got used to each other, I realised that the future mattered much more than the past. I let it go."

"I am here now," Ziva said. "I am ready to give you answers."

"Okay," Tony said. "I don't want to talk about it right now. We're about to pick Tali up."

"I do not want Tali to be around, when we talk about this," Ziva said softly.

"Okay," Tony said. "I'm glad we're on the same page about that."

Ziva frowned.

"My therapist thought we may like to have the conversation in her office," Ziva said, as they turned another corner.

"We don't need a referee," Tony said.

"No we do not," Ziva replied. "Perhaps we do need to make a date to have this conversation, to be prepared."

Tony ran his hand up, and through his hair.

"That's not the type of date, I want to take you on," Tony said.

"You want to take me on a date," Ziva replied. "We have a five and a half year old, I think we are past the point of dates."

"Dad'll be here at the end of next week," Tony said. "He's always happy to babysit. I think we deserve a date night. All the parenting books say it's important for parents to have date nights."

Ziva smiled. He wondered if she was working out that it would be their first official date.

"Shall we set a time to talk about the past?" Ziva asked. "So we can enjoy this date you want to go on."

"If Anthony DiNozzo is taking you on a date," Tony said softly. "I can guarantee you will enjoy it."

Ziva's face broke out into a smile.

"I am sure I will," Ziva said. "But, I would like us to have these hard conversations first. I can feel this thing hanging over us."

Tony frowned.

"Yeah," he admitted, as they turned onto the street they had started on. "Me too."

"I thought the conversation would happen organically," Ziva said. "But, that does not seem to be the case. I think we both need to be prepared to go there."

Tony knew what she was saying. Now that Tali slept in her own bed four days out of five, Ziva tried to talk about things when they lay down to go to sleep. Ziva had started to tell him parts of the story. He knew what happened to Adam. He knew that Odette was something straight out of a spy novel. He had it confirmed that Ziva watched them sometimes.

But, Ziva had told those stories with the same neutral tone, she used to use when she reported on cases.

Tony had told a few stories of his own. That time he took Tali to a trampoline park. That time Tali had an epic tantrum in the ice cream store. That time Tali said 'to infinity and beyond' when Tony asked her where she was going, and Tony decided it was the proudest he would ever be as a parent.

Their stories were always about the easy stuff, and the too hard basket was full to the brim.

They needed to start taking things out of it before it spilled over, and caused chaos.

"You're right," he said. "I don't want to do it tomorrow. It's probably gonna bring up some stuff. I don't want to bring a bad vibe into the weekend. Tali picks up on that stuff."

"We cannot avoid it forever," Ziva said.

"I know," he said. A part of him wanted to. He wanted to put it all away, and move forward, bringing up the pain would only bring heartache.

"Are you ready to talk about this?" she asked. "It can wait, if you are not ready."

"Yeah, well sort of," he said. "But, we've got to pull the band-aid off."

They needed to properly heal, even if it hurt in the short term.

"Shall we see how things are next week?" Ziva finally asked. "I will leave the ball in your street."

The house of cards needed to topple over so they could build something with decent foundations.

He knew that, but it didn't mean he wasn't scared.

There was so much to make sense of.

"Court," Tony corrected, as they reached the gates of Tali's school. "We'll talk soon. I just need to get my head on straight first."

Ziva placed her hand in his.

"Whatever happens," Ziva said. "We will get through it together. Always together."

"That's my line," came Tony's reply, as the school bell rang.

It didn't matter who said it, the line was their mantra.

Whatever happened, they'd get through it together, always.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, this chapter was written March 2020 and set January 2020 hence the references about COVID-19 that doesn't take the virus very seriously.


	7. Say What You Need To Say Part 1

Instead of walking to their apartment after school drop-off, on a chilly Monday, Tony led Ziva down a side street.

"What are we doing?" she asked.

"We're gonna talk," he said. "You know about the big stuff."

Since their conversation, the previous week, a low level tension, simmered underneath them. There were conversations that hung in the air, as they did dishes or hustled Tali.

Their small apartment did not have room for an elephant. Especially one, that the occupants refused to talk about.

During their evening talks, the conversations had delved deeper. Tony told Ziva about how scared he was when Tali got a bad cold for the first time. He had been convinced that two year old Tali had pneumonia. She had of course recovered quickly, and returned to her sprightly self. Tony had taken longer to recover. The fear lingered.

What would he do if he lost her?

Tony knew what losing a child did to a parent. Tony was already too much like Gibbs.

Ziva had started to talk about Sahar, and the fight for survival that had dominated nearly four years of her life. Ziva had admitted, how scared she was. Scared that she would never see Tali again. Scared to ask Gibbs for help, and be rejected. Scared that too much time would pass, and Tali be too old to fully let her in.

"So where are we going?" Ziva asked.

The ball was in his court, and the night before Tony had asked if they could talk about the big stuff the next day.

He had asked if she was ready.

Ziva was as ready as she would ever be.

They passed parked cars, each proudly displaying their residential pass.

Then came the plop plop of a car being unlocked.

"Are we going for a drive?" Ziva asked.

Tony stopped by a sensible station wagon. So different from the cars he had in his bachelor days.

"You're worse than Tali with the twenty questions today," he said, as he walked around the car, and took a seat in the driver's seat.

Ziva followed and sat down in the passenger seat.

She had been in Paris, with them, for just shy of a month, and had yet to ride in the car. Tony spent much of his free time managing the car, taking it for a spin around the block every few days, and making sure the parking pass was displayed.

They seldom actually used the car, except for the once a month trip, where Tony drove deep into the exurbs, to stock up on toiletries, and non perishables. January's adventure was done when Tali was at school, and Ziva at her therapy session. Tony had brought as much toilet paper and hand sanitiser as the store let him have.

They've shut down half of China, he said, as they squashed a packet of toilet paper into their already overflowing wardrobe. We've gotta protect ourselves.

Tony had been talking about going away for a weekend when the weather got warmer, but they had made no concrete plans, especially with this looming virus.

"So where are we going?" Ziva asked, as she pulled her seat belt over her torso.

Click.

Tony's seat belt remained unclicked.

"Nowhere," he said. "I didn't want to have this conversation at home. It would be too easy to get distracted, and I didn't want the bad ju-ju to be in the air when Tali came home. And, it's way too private to have in public. So here we are. We've always had good conversations in cars."

Ziva unclicked the seat belt, and felt the strap run through her hand. It burned as it rubbed her skin.

She remembered another car conversation, both of them much younger, and the two of them talking about another Tali.

Then she remembered the opera he had set up for her in the squadroom.

That had been a simpler time.

"Okay," Ziva said, as she looked at his eyes through the rearview mirror. His hair was getting long, little wisps hung over his eyes. "I suppose I should get started."

Tony turned the ignition on. Stale car heat attacked Ziva's ankles.

"We've got time," Tony said, as he adjusted the seat, and moved backwards.

Ziva looked behind her seat, and rested her eyes on Tali's car seat.

They did not have time. Their days were planned around a six hour school day.

"Are you ready for this?" she asked. "Honestly?"

"It's gonna hurt like hell," Tony said, "But you're right, it's hanging over us."

Ziva rested her hand on her thighs.

They had to rip the band-aid off, so they could see the state of the wound, before the infection ran deep into the bone.

"I suppose I should start with when I sent you away," Ziva said. She saw him wince, through the rearview mirror. . "I was not in a good place. I did not have a panic attack until I sent Tali to you, but I was not in a good place, for a long time."

The therapist Ziva now saw, had tried to float a diagnosis of complex-PTSD, to explain Ziva's mental state, and thought it went back much further than when Ziva stayed in Israel.

But, Ziva was not ready to label a decade of her life with a diagnosis.

"I should have made you get on the plane," he said.

Ziva shook her head.

"I was very determined to stay in Israel and rot," Ziva said, feeling her voice crack. Even now she still caused so much pain. "I thought I was poison. I thought I caused pain and suffering to everyone I loved. I thought everyone got taken away from me, because I deserved it."

Tony looked down at his lap.

"Ziva," he said. "You are not poison. Please know that. We love you."

Ziva's lip quivered.

"I know that," she said, "I am working through that. I love you both too. More than anything."

Tony reached across the console for Ziva's hand. He rubbed the scar on her wrist.

"I should have stayed with you in Israel," Tony said, his voice cracking. "I thought like that for months, I nearly booked tickets a few times. Nothing felt right without you."

"But, the job," Ziva said quietly. "And, your life in D.C."

"Clearly, none of that matters," Tony said, as he waved his hand around. "Not as much as my girls."

We'll be in Paris, Tony had said to her, as he held Tali to his chest, in that dusty Cairo hotel room. Ziva adjusted her hijab so she could slip out. We'll be waiting for you. However long it takes.

Ziva pulled her hand away from him.

"Even if you had stayed," Ziva said, as her chest tightened. Tony would not like what she said next. "And, I never wanted you to disrupt your life like that, I probably would have run. I was a mess. I was convinced I would do nothing but hurt you. I had to protect you from me. All I was capable of was hurting people I loved."

Tony reached for her hand again. She let him take it.

"And, I still ended up hurting you," Ziva said. "Even though I sent you away."

"You didn't hurt me," Tony said.

"That is a lie," Ziva called out, her voice rising with each word. "I hurt you when I told you to go home. I hurt you when I kept Tali from you. I hurt you when I had to fake my death."

"I've let go of that," he said. "All of it."

Ziva raised an eyebrow. Tears fell down her face.

That was enough to break Tony.

"But you're right, all of that hurt me," he said, as he looked out the window. "It hurt me a lot. Those first few months after I left Israel, thinking I had done the wrong thing. I called your phone, and listened to the message saying it was disconnected. I mourned you, like you had died. I mourned for what we could have been. I was ready to do forever with you. I wanted wedding rings, two kids and a dog, and a white picket fence. I still do. It might not look like I imagined, but I want as much of that as we can get."

Ziva wiped her tears with her finger.

She wanted it all too.

That and all the little daily moments. The rushed journey to school. The lazy Saturday mornings, where Ziva came home after a run and found Tali and Tony watching cartoons together, with Tony has engrossed by the story as Tali. The weekly ballet classes, where Tali got to live the dreams that Ziva had taken from her

Her daughter would be whatever she wanted to be, Ziva would make sure of that.

"I dated someone for a while," Tony said. "About a year after you stayed behind. Her name was Zoe, and I tried to turn her into a knock off you."

Ziva gulped.

"Well that didn't work," Tony said. "I called her by your name once, and her face just fell. She knew that I wasn't over you, and probably never would be. We broke up not long after, she knew she would never be you, and wasn't gonna stick around to be second best."

"Why are you telling me this?" Ziva asked.

"Because, while I was trying to fit Zoe into a Ziva shaped hole," Tony said, as he ran his hand over his face. "My daughter was out there in the world. I was so unsettled in those years, because I was with the wrong people, and in the wrong place. I should have been there with both of you."

Ziva felt her heart heave.

"I missed so much," he said. "I would have been on the first plane, if I had known. Whatever terms you wanted. I would have been there. Not just for her. For both of you."

"I should have called," Ziva said.

You could have called, she had said to him once, as they saw each other for the first time in months.

Those times had been simpler.

"No shit," he said, anger seeping into his voice.

Ziva recoiled at his words.

"It took me a while to come to terms with the fact that I was pregnant," Ziva said. "I was always so sure that I would have difficulty falling pregnant."

Ziva had stayed in the farmhouse long after she sent Tony away. She had let the fruit in the orchard fall to the ground, and rot. She had moved through the dusty rooms, getting caught in the memories, and what ifs.

What if she never killed Ari?

What if she had not chased Bodnar?

Why had they not just let her die in Somalia, like she deserved?

Tony looked down at his nap.

"Obviously not," Tony said, snark seeping into his voice.

"No," Ziva said. "In hindsight I am very glad. I do not even want to imagine the world without her."

A soft smile graced Tony's features.

"Me neither," Tony said, his voice softer now.

"Even when we were apart," Ziva said. "I knew she was out there. That was something. That kept me going."

She was fighting for her.

"Tell me what it was like," Tony said, "When you found out?"

It was her thirty-first birthday, when she rushed out of bed to throw up, for the fifth day in a row, when it dawned on her. She had blamed the sickness on the way she was treating her body. There were days where she barely ate, and yet others where she drove into town, brought enough food for a large family and cooked all of her mother's recipes. The food was cooked in a frenzy, and Ziva found herself with a feast and no-one to share it with.

So she gorged. She stuffed as much of the food down as she could. Rice pilaf. Falafel. Spicy cholent. She tried to fill herself up with the love she was missing.

In the cooking frenzies she refused to cook anything Italian, because that was the love she had sent away, for his own safety.

Everyone who came too close got taken away.

Ziva rested her back on the wall of the bathroom, on the morning of her thirty-first birthday, and began to count back the weeks. She reached the answer, but then shook her head.

No, Ziva you have not made that much of a mess.

Then, by the time it would have been her sister's twenty-seventh birthday, Ziva drove into town and brought half a dozen pregnancy tests. She stood behind religious women in cheap wigs and with kids hanging off them, who were buying cold medicine, and tried to make herself small.

This would be nothing, Ziva told herself. The missed period and the sickness would be because of how she treated her body.

An hour later she was staring at a sea of positive results.

Then a week later, she woke to a cramp and a drop of scarlet in her underwear.

"I was in complete denial," Ziva said. "I brushed off all the symptoms. Then not long after my birthday, I found blood in my underwear. I was so convinced that the baby was going to be taken away, just as I realised she was there. I thought the universe was punishing me for all the lives I have taken."

Tony's chest heaved.

"You nearly lost her?" he asked. His voice shook.

Ziva nodded.

"It was a scare," Ziva said. "I went to the doctor to confirm that she was gone, but they found her heartbeat. It was the most beautiful sound. It was so strong."

Light spotting at this stage of pregnancy is normal, the doctor said, as Ziva studied the ultrasound on the screen. Her baby was there. Her. His baby too. Theirs.

How could she possibly tell him?

A smile crossed his face. He was relieved even though he knew the outcome.

"That's when I knew I wanted her," Ziva said. "I changed my life for her. I left the farmhouse, because it had too many memories. I went to see Shmeil, he was so happy when I told him."

Shmeil had been sick that whole winter. His skin was nearly transparent and he would be gone mere months after Tali entered the world.

Oh Ziva, he said, as he pulled the blanket over his legs in his wheelchair. This is such wonderful news.

A quiet moment passed. A cyclist sped past them, coming dangerously close to knocking off the drivers side mirror.

"When I heard about Shmeil's death," Tony started. "I tried to get in touch. I had to email you, it felt so damn clinical, but it was the only thing I could do. I wanted to call you."

Shmeil's death had been peaceful. At the same time as cells had been multiplying in Ziva to create the being that would become Tali, inside Shmeil cells were multiplying and slowly stealing his life. Shmeil had fought many things, but he did not fight this.

"Ducky did too," Tony said. "I can understand why you didn't reply to me, but Ducky was really hurt by that."

It had not just been Tali and Tony that had been caught in her pain. Her hurt cast a wide net.

And, yet all of them had forgiven her, and welcomed her back with open arms.

It was more than Ziva deserved.

"I saw them," Ziva replied. "But, I was not ready to hear from either of you."

"How old was Tali?" Tony asked. "When Shmeil passed?"

"Four months," Ziva declared. "I had a photo of Shmeil holding her when she was six weeks old. I do not know if it made it onto that flash drive that I put in the go-bag. That was done in such a rush."

The thumb drive, had been a last minute thought, trying to answer some of the many questions she knew Tony would have. She had used all the storage on the drive, filling it with files that became photos. She had hoped the photos would be enough of an explanation.

"It did," Tony said. "I've looked at the photos on that thing a million times. Our daughter was an adorable baby."

Our daughter. Ours.

"She was," Ziva said.

"We've gotten a little ahead of ourselves," Tony said. "Tell me more about the pregnancy."

Ziva let out a breath.

"The pregnancy was hard," Ziva admitted. "I worried about every little twinge. My blood pressure was high a lot of the time, and my mental state could be best described as tumultuous. I was convinced she was going to be taken away from me, because of everything I had done."

"Is that why you didn't call me?" he asked. "Because you had complications."

"I suppose that it is part of it," Ziva admitted. "I could not disrupt your whole life, and then have nothing to show for it. I could not imagine breaking your heart like that."

She had broken his heart anyway.

"I should have been there," Tony said. "For every appointment."

"Even if we were on the same continent, you would not have been able to go to every appointment," Ziva said. "The receptionists knew me by name, at the end of it."

"Gibbs would have understood," Tony said. "Family first."

Ziva looked down at her lap.

What if she had gotten on a plane when she first found out?

What if Tony had gotten to be the attentive but freaked out father-to-be, she knew he would have been?

What if Tali had spent her early years surrounded by a makeshift extended family?

"And even if it had all ended in tears," Tony said. "I would have still wanted to be there."

It is better to lose a love, than never have been loved at all.

"It hurts to think you were all alone," Tony said. "That you dealt with all of that all by yourself."

At lo levad, he had told her once.

Yet, she had never believed it.

"I was not alone," Ziva replied.

"I know you had Tali," Tony replied.

"That is not what I meant," Ziva said.

Tony frowned. Anger flashed over his features.

"What do you mean?" he asked. "Were you seeing someone, while you were pregnant?"


	8. Say What You Need To Say Part 2

"That is not what I meant at all," Ziva said, anger seeping into her voice. "I was barely hanging on during those months. I took it day by day."

And, her heart belonged to him. It would always belong to him.

She had sent him away for his own safety.

Those who got too close did not survive.

"Sorry," Tony said, as he looked at his lap. "I just don't know what to think right now. You said Adam helped over the last few years, I saw the way he used to look at you."

Ziva's heart still broke for Adam. He should have gotten out of this alive.

"No," Ziva said. "He was a very good friend, but nothing more."

"Sorry," he said again. "This is just bringing up a lot. A tiny part of me is still expecting you to say that you kept us apart, because you didn't think I would be a good father."

She never thought that, not for a second.

And, she saw the way he was with her now. Even when their daughter was being a brat, he was patient and kind.

"It was never about that," Ziva said. "I have always thought that you would make a good father."

He knew what it was to be the forgotten child, and he would make sure any child of his never knew that.

"How long were you thinking about having babies with me?" Tony asked, as he flashed his signature grin.

It was some much needed levity.

"I meant in the abstract sense," Ziva said. "I know you would try and do the opposite of your father, and I remember what you were like with Vance's children."

"You know both of those kids are adults now," he said.

"Yes," Ziva said. "And from what I have heard, they are both doing well."

"Yeah," Tony said, as his voice got heavy again. "So who helped you, when you were pregnant?"

"When I told Shmeil about the pregnancy, he was insistent on two things. The first being that I call you, and the second being that I move close to him if I was going to stay in Israel. I managed one of those things."

"Shmeil knew I was Tali's father?" Tony asked.

"I did not tell him," Ziva said, softening her voice. "He would not leave it alone. When he was dying, he was very insistent that I call you. He said that you would understand, even after all the time I had let pass."

Ziva, Shmeil said between labored breaths, as he held her hand. Life is too short.

"Shmeil always was wise," Tony said.

"Yes," Ziva said.

"So you moved near Shmeil and he helped you out?" Tony asked. "I'm trying to imagine him helping you, he was so little. You must have been huge at the end of it."

Towards the end of pregnancy, everything had been a struggle. Everything hurt. Everything felt too small and too tight.

And, the reality was starting to set in. She was about to be responsible for a whole human.

Everything was terrifying.

"Not just Shmeil," Ziva said. "He got his neighbours involved. My new apartment was across the street from the retirement complex. The three neighbours that Shmeil gathers were women, many of them mothers and grandmothers. Almost every day one of them turned up at my new apartment with food."

Tony laughed. It felt like a foreign word spoke accidentally.

"So you had a harem of grannys," Tony said. "Making sure you ate."

Ziva thought of the three women who had adopted her. She had always thought of them as a collective. Each of them with grey hair, and a lifetime of pain, but each radiating joy.

"Something like that," Ziva said softly. "In the months before then, I had only spoken to people when I went out to buy supplies, and those conversations were brief. I isolated myself in that farmhouse. Now, I was forced to talk to someone everyday. I can see now that it was good for me. I needed that."

Tony looked back out the window. Another cyclist moved passed the car, this one much slower, with shopping bags hanging off the handlebars, and a baby in the bucket seat behind.

"Ziva, I have to ask," Tony said, as he opened the window just a little. Letting in a cool woosh of air. "When I left you in Israel, did you want to hurt yourself?"

Ziva let out a sob that had buried deep.

"I would not have harmed myself," Ziva whispered, finally saying the words that she had kept hidden. "But, I did think that the world would be better without me."

Tony opened the window more, and more cool air filled the car. A tear fell down his face.

"That was my biggest fear," Tony said, his voice cracking. "That you would do something to hurt yourself. If we had to be apart, then so be it, but you needed to stay in the world. The world is a better place because you're in it. Please remember that."

"Thank you," Ziva said, "For saying that."

"I mean it," he replied.

"I know," Ziva said quietly.

The clock on the car switched over to the next hour.

Tony turned the heating off.

"Tell me more about the pregnancy," Tony said. "I want to know everything."

Ziva looked out of her window, an older woman pushed a stroller, while a toddler on a scooter rushed down the path.

"When I was about six months along," Ziva started. "I was placed on bed rest for a few weeks."

Hopefully, this is just a precaution, the doctor said, as she helped Ziva off the table. Tali's heartbeat was strong, but Ziva's body was not coping.

"Why?" Tony asked.

"My blood pressure was very high," Ziva said. "And, I had a headache. They wanted to see if it turned into pre-eclampsia. Luckily, it turned out not to be."

Oh what a relief that turned out to be.

Tony's chest heaved again. In and out.

"The harem of Granny's as you call them, they really stepped up," Ziva said softly. "I do not think I was alone for more than a minute for those whole three weeks."

Each of them brought food and quiet support, and refused to be turned away. They came in different configurations, sometimes as a trio, sometimes alone but always with love.

We're old, Zivaleh, each said, we're good at sitting, so we are going to sit with you.

"Each of them had been through enough for five lifetimes," Ziva said, as she thought of the string of numbers tattooed on Bracha's arm, or the badly healed bones in Ayelet's wrist that had been caused by first-husband with anger in his heart, as they turned the arid desert into fertile ground. Dorrit had been part of the fight for Israeli independence. "Yet, they were still full of so much joy. So much love. They treated me as if I was their own granddaughter."

"Do you have their numbers?" Tony asked.

"Why?" Ziva asked.

"I want to call them," Tony said softly. "And, thank them for looking after you and Tali."

Ziva looked down at her lap.

"Each of them are dead," she said with a frown. "Bracha died not long after Shmeil. Ayelet and Dorrit died after I left Israel. Each of them were in their eighties. Dorrit would have been at least ninety. They would have died peacefully."

Tony frowned.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"That they are not here anymore?" Ziva asked.

"Yeah," Tony said. "And, that I thought you were dating someone else."

"I understand," Ziva said. "I gave you a lot of information all at once, and I was not exactly myself when I was pregnant."

"I'm glad they were there for you," he said. "That you had someone who cared."

"Even though it should have been you," Ziva said.

"Yeah," Tony said, as he looked out his window. "I'm always gonna wish it was me taking care of you, but I'm glad they were there. That you had someone."

A driver struggled to park his car in a tight space. The car moved in and out.

"I bet you hated bed rest," he said.

"Every last minute," Ziva said. "We watched a lot of movies."

"Really?" he asked. "I thought you would have read."

"My head hurt," Ziva said softly. "I could not focus on the words."

"Let me guess, you watched all four of the Pirates of the Caribbean movies, four times over," Tony said with a smile.

"Only once," Ziva said. "Dorrit rather enjoyed them."

Tony laughed.

"You know there's a fifth one," Tony said. "It came out a couple of years ago."

"Really?" Ziva said, her eyes lighting up.

She had not had time to plug into pop culture during her years 'away'. She had missed so much.

"Yeah," he said, "I showed Tali, when we were picking a movie. I told her those movies were some of your favourites, and that when she was a little older we'd watch them."

"We can do that all together now," Ziva said.

"Yeah, we can," he replied. "I think Tali would like that."

Ziva could see it. Tali squashed between them on their too small couch. A bowl of popcorn that would be demolished within an hour. Tony rolling his eyes as the film continued, and Tali became engrossed, because of course Tali would love the films.

"What was her birth like?" he asked.

"Well, it hurt," Ziva said.

"I may be a mere male," Tony said with a smirk, "But, even I know childbirth hurts."

"It was a different kind of pain," Ziva continued. "Other pain has been because something has gone wrong, but this pain was productive. It was bringing her into the world."

Those endless waves. Waves she had to ride. The hospital room had been empty. Ziva had no one to sit with her, as the pain rose and rose. Each of the old ladies had offered to be there, but Ziva had turned them away. She had to do this alone.

"In those last few months of the pregnancy," Ziva said, as she felt a phantom twinge. "I had these moments where I started to wonder what sort of mother I would be. If I would be good enough. I had only ever taken lives. The pain gave me something to focus on."

"You're an amazing mother," Tony said.

"No," Ziva said, shaking her head. "But, I try. I will try to be the best mother I can be."

"What was it like?" he asked. "When she was earth side?"

"She took forever to come," Ziva said. She remembered watching both a sunset and a sunrise in that hospital room. She barely registered the sunrise as the pain became too much. She had to go deeper into herself to cope with the pain. "But then after all of that pain it was over. They handed her to me, and I saw her eyes. They reminded me of you. She looked at me with these completely innocent eyes, and she really saw me. I had done something good. I had created her."

Ziva's arms formed a cradle as the memories flooded back. That light antiseptic smell in the hospital room. The nurses checking Ziva's blood pressure. Tali looking up at her, with complete innocence, and love.

Ziva had never felt a love like it.

"I knew then," Ziva said as the tears fell freely. "That whatever happened, I would protect her with everything I had. Even if it killed me, I had to keep her safe."

"I had that feeling too," Tony said, swallowing thickly. "A few hours after I met her. When we were completely alone together for the first time. Everything just clicked. All that mattered was her."

Everything they did, it would always be for her.

"She had the grumpiest little look on her face, when she was born, I wish I had taken a photo," Ziva said softly. "She was over a week late. I think she enjoyed her little cocoon."

"DiNozzo's always are," Tony said softly.

"How do you know that?" Ziva asked.

"Dad told me," Tony said. "When I found her birth certificate in her go-bag. I did some basic math, and figured she must have been a little late. She had been with me for five days, before I knew her date of birth. What kind of Dad doesn't know their kids' date of birth?"

"Did you think-?" Ziva started. She could not bear to say the words.

"No," Tony said, shaking his head. "I knew she was mine. I mean it's obvious. She's got the DiNozzo spunk. I just wanted to fill in the blanks. People always ask questions. I wanted answers.."

"I spent that whole last week trying to evict her," Ziva said, remembering the long walks she took herself on, and Bracha's old wives tales. "I had worried about her being born too early, and here she was hanging on."

Then just as Ziva was ready to admit defeat, she felt the first twinges. She sat with them pacing through her apartment alone, and waiting.

Waiting for it all to go wrong.

"There was this day," Tony said. "The June after you left, where I was so restless. I felt this overwhelming urge to call you. I had made peace with you being gone by then, but I just couldn't stop thinking about you. I couldn't sleep. I could barely eat. I'm probably remembering it wrong, or trying to make myself feel better, but I'm pretty sure it was around the day she was born. Like I want to believe the universe was linking us."

Ziva smiled.

"When she was born," Ziva said, "I was about to call you. I had the number dialled and everything. I hovered over that call button."

In the hours after Tali's birth, Ziva was exhausted, but unable to sleep. Even though the nurses assured her Tali would be fine, Ziva could not believe them. She had to watch every rise and fall of Tali's chest.

Newborn babies were vulnerable. This one could still be taken away.

Ziva could still be punished for her sins.

Ziva had to tell Tony. She had to tell Tony that they had created a miracle.

But, what if he took Tali away?

What if he did not think she was a fit mother?

"Why didn't you?" he asked. "I would have gotten on the first plane. We would have worked it out."

"I did not want you to take her away," Ziva said.

"Ziva," he said shaking his head. "I would have never. We're a team."

"The darkness in me, it started to heal when she came," Ziva said. "But, the thoughts were still there. In those first few days, I was scared to go to sleep in case something happened to her. I spent hours thinking I was a terrible mother. I cried as much as she did. I thought if I called you, that it would be the final straw, you would be so angry that I kept her from you, that would take her. I knew that would be for the best, but if I lost her, I would not cope."

Tony sucked in a deep breath.

"Ziva," he said softly. "You're right I would have been pissed, but we would have worked it out."

"I am beginning to understand that now," Ziva replied, "But, in those first few months I was unwell. My doctor wanted to give me medication. She said it was just the drop in hormones, but it was more than that."

Tony reached for her hand, and squeezed it.

"How did you cope?" he asked. "From what I've heard the first year is crazy."

Ziva noticed the grimace as he said from what I've heard.

"I am honestly not sure," Ziva said softly. "Shmeil's neighbours tried to help, but I never left Tali alone with any of them. Then Shmeil got sick, and everything changed again. After Shmeil died, I moved back to the farmhouse. The neighbours thought I was crazy, but I needed to hide. I think I was punishing myself for not telling you."

Tony shook his head.

"So Tali and I spent a lot of time together, just us. She was a beautiful baby, and so happy even after everything I put her through. She kept me going." Ziva said. "I told her stories about you every day."

"Oh Ziva," he said softly.

"Things got easier once she turned one. She started to sleep for longer, and I felt more secure. Tali was such a funny toddler, she was always running around, and always laughing," Ziva said, remembering that day before Tali's birthday where the dark cloud started to lift. Ziva knew that she had put good into the world. "Then Orli started smelling around."

"Sniffing around," Tony corrected. "You know she told me that you two got close."

Ziva frowned. She had never trusted Orli.

"We did not know who it was, and the threat was not serious until the Spring," Ziva said softly. "But, there was chatter. Orli and I were not close. I kept her around out of necessity."

"So you decided to send Tali to me," Tony said. "Because of the threat."

"Not exactly," Ziva said. "Tali knew who you were, and I knew as she got older she would have questions. I knew I had to introduce the two of you. I was not being fair to either of you. After her first birthday, I decided I could not keep the two of you apart. I was stronger then, I thought I would be able to cope with your questions and anger. I would be able to deal with being apart from Tali, if we decided to do some sort of custody arrangement. I started to make enquiries."

"You spied on me?" Tony asked.

Adam had been recruited for this mission, and he had gladly accepted. Ziva should have known then she was messing with his heart. She caused so much pain.

Tony is seeing someone, Adam said, as he presented Ziva with photos of Tony and a brunette woman.

Ziva now knew that woman to be Zoe.

The woman Tony was trying to fit into a Ziva shaped hole.

"Not exactly," Ziva replied delicately. "I just needed to know how much I was disrupting. I worried that you had moved on. I did not want Tali and I to ruin that. I could not imagine, another woman being happy if I suddenly turned up with a child. With your child."

Tony kicked at the door of the car, and rushed out. He banged his hand on the roof of the car.

Ziva got out, the cool air was a shock. Tony's outburst was more of a shock.

"Tony," Ziva said softly. "Please get back in the car."

"I just need a minute," Tony said, as he held up his hand to stop her coming any closer. "I'm angry, and I don't want to shout at you. I know that whatever I say to you, you've already said to yourself and probably worse."

"Say it," Ziva said, as a car slowly inched past them. "Say everything you need to say."

"Ziva," he said, dragging out her name. "You're not going to like it."

"Maybe not," Ziva replied, "But it needs to be said."

"I just wonder when you are going to get it?" Tony all but shouted. "Whatever was going on in my life, I would have given it up for you, for both of you. Within 48 hours of Tali coming into my life, I'd handed in my badge, because I didn't want her to be wondering if Daddy would be home. I didn't want to even risk her losing me, I was all that she had. I would cross the earth for either of you. I'd do that until my feet were bleeding."

A tear slipped down Tony's face.

"It's always been you, Ziva," Tony said, as he wiped his tears away. "I know I spent a long time pretending otherwise, but that's because I was scared. That summer when Vance split us all up, that's when I knew. I missed you most of all. I had all these stories, I wanted to tell you, but I couldn't bring myself to call you, because I didn't know if we'd ever see each other. I didn't want to look desperate. By the time we were all together, you had Rivkin, and well we all know how that ended. Then when you stayed in Israel that first time, when we thought you were dead that first time-"

Ziva walked in front of the car, and reached for him. She wrapped her arms around him.

Within seconds her coat was wet, and not a drop came from the sky.

"That's what hurts," Tony said, as he looked at her, his eyes red. "There were so many times when we could have gone all in. There were so many times when I should have just manned up, and told you how I feel, or not glossed over it when you tried to tell me. We could have saved ourselves so much heartache. We could have been happy, a long time ago."

"I wish that too," Ziva said. "I wish I had been strong enough. I have spent so long just surviving."

"I look at Jimmy and Tim and I see what they have with Breena and Delilah," Tony continued. "I know they have their issues and hard times, but what they've got that's all I wanted with you. I know we can build our own little version of it, but there's always gonna be these extra layers. There's always gonna be things that hurt. We have a five year old, and we haven't even been on a proper date. It's like we're starting over for the millionth time, and we really can't screw it up this time, because that'll hurt Tali most of all."

Ziva placed his hand on his cheeks.

"We cannot change the past," Ziva said sadly.

"No," he said. "And, I'm so glad that we get to do this now. I know that until last month the future wasn't guaranteed. It just really hurts to think how much of a mess we made."

Ziva would always assume more responsibility for that mess.

"I am glad we get to do this too," Ziva said, as the tears fell freely.

"I'm always gonna wish that I got to be there in the beginning with Tali," Tony said, his voice cracking. "Just like I know you would give anything to have seen her grow for these last few years. We've both missed a lot, it kinda evens out."

"You are right," Ziva said, swallowing thickly. "I wish I could have been here with the two of you for the last three years. I wish I had just gotten on the plane even though I was scared. Maybe we could have worked it out."

Tony nodded.

"I know we're probably gonna have to keep talking about this," he said. "And, I'm glad we started this conversation. But, I want to get out of here. I'm gonna need some time to digest things. I might leave to get Tali a little early, and have some quiet time."

"I also made an appointment," Tony said. "With that shrink I used to see. Between the three of us, we're paying for the psychiatrists of Paris summer vacations."

They had a weekly check-in with the shrink at Tali's school, but there was little to report. Tali was adjusting well. The tantrums and the bedwetting had ended as quickly as they started.

"That is probably for the best," Ziva said, as she rubbed his cheek. "I love you."

Tony pressed her head into his.

"I love you," he said, as he wrapped his arms around her. "We're gonna be okay."

"How do you know that?" she asked.

"We have to be," Tony replied. "We don't have any other options."

A car honked, causing Ziva and Tony to break apart.

A driver hung out the window and shook his head.

Ziva took his hand, and led him to the sidewalk.

"Shall we go home?" she asked. "If you are ready."

"I am." Tony said, as he pressed the fob and locked the car. "Let's go."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, that I've had some distance from this chapter, I um and ah about giving Ziva a harem of grannies to look after her. I just liked the idea of her having some love and kindness. They don't get mentioned again, so you can forget about them if you would prefer.


	9. The Flowers And The Trees

Tony smiled as the door to his and Ziva's bedroom opened. His and Ziva's, theirs, it was still such a sweet notion.

After so long, they were finally together.

Ziva stepped through the door frame. She had wrapped herself in his fluffy robe. She was swimming in the grey fleece fabric. It reminded him of one of those early cases where she had been pushed into water by one of the bad guys, and wore the ugly grey NCIS tracksuit for a few hours.

He patted the space next to him in bed. It was still warm.

"We have things to do," she said, as she moved across the room.

Being the support team for a five year old, involved a lot of busy work.

He didn't know how parents with more than one kid, or like actual jobs did it. Probably, with a lot less sleep.

"Nothing that can't wait," he said. "It's cold, let's huddle for warmth."

Ziva smiled. A smile that started at her mouth, and rose through her face. She ran her hand through her hair, and looked at the place on the bed.

"I suppose it is only sensible," she said, as she slowly undid the tie of the bathrobe, and left it open. Tony caught sight of a body he knew so well. "For the sake of our survival."

Tony lifted up the duvet, and got a blast of cold air.

The bathrobe dropped to the floor, and Ziva got into bed quickly. He could see goose pimples on her arms.

He wrapped his arms around her waist, and she snuggled in.

Not too tight, he reminded himself, she's not going anywhere.

Ziva shifted slightly in the bed, and he got a mouthful of her hair.

He snuggled closer, they had to keep warm after all.

"You okay?" he asked, as Ziva ran her foot up and down his shin.

"Yes," she said, her voice soft. "Are you okay?"

"I'm good," he said, as he reached up with the arm that she had not pinned down, and moved her hair away from his nose.

Ziva wiggled her hips. His thighs touched the back of hers, and their bare skin made a squelching sound. Something that never happened on the shows on HBO, but happened a lot in real life.

"I know sex is complicated for you," he said.

He watched as the tension traveled up her spine. The familiar pang ate away at his stomach lining.

Shouldn't have said that DiNozzo, the voice in his head reminded him.

It had been two weeks since he and Ziva had finally had their big blow out conversation in the car. They had cast their nets far and wide, and dug up everything they had buried. Even the stuff they had completely blocked out. They were still working through some of the debris that had surfaced.

Tony had worried that the big conversation would cause more hurt, and they were already in so much pain. Instead, it had brought them closer, and they started to heal. The building the foundations of trust, one brick at a time. It was going to be hard work, but they were ready.

Their evenings, once Tali finally went to bed, were still spent sharing stories, but story time had started to become more tactile. They had always been tactile with each other, always in each other's space, but now they did all of it without restriction. There were no rules to break. Their hearts were open.

The goodnight kisses lingered. They fell asleep holding each other.

God, he had wanted to just hold her for so long.

Now, he could, until his dying day.

"Sex is complicated for everyone," she said, as her shoulders started to soften. "Anyone who says it is not complicated is lying, or missing something."

He thought about what she meant for a second, and thought about his younger years. When it was all about notches on his bedpost, and chasing a new girl. When as soon as anything resembling feelings came up he did a runner.

You can't get hurt feelings, if you don't have feelings in the first place.

Except, all of that ended up hurting him.

Once his frat brothers and buddies started getting married, and having families, Tony started to realise how lonely he was. Despite all of his bravado, he realised he wanted all of that. He was meant to be one half of a couple.

But, he did not think he deserved it.

Then Ziva entered his life. A whirlwind of curls, and bravado.

They had both been so young when they met.

If someone had told Tony about what was to come when they first met, he would have run a mile, and changed his name so he could never be traced.

But, then he would have missed out on so much.

A world without Tali in it, was not one he wanted to contemplate.

"You know what I mean," he said, as he ran his hand up and down the outside of her thigh. "We said we'd take it slow, and then we went whole hog the minute we were out of the gate."

They had talked about this, because they talked about everything now. They spent so long not talking, and so long pretending that things were okay when they weren't. Now, they talked until they were blue in the face.

When their lingering goodnight kisses turned into make out sessions that rivaled the ones Tony used to have on the beaches of Florida on Spring Break, they started to talk about where this was all going.

They made rules. They wouldn't go all the way while Tali was in the apartment, at least not for now, she had mostly gotten through the teething issues that arose when Ziva first came home, but still had the habit of seeking her parents out during the night. Not necessarily for comfort, but just to know they were there.

They would only go as far as either of them wanted to go. Tony had initially made that rule for Ziva, knowing these things were complicated, but the more that he thought about it, he had made the rule for him too. They were still building a trust, and a part of him still expected to wake up one day and find Ziva gone.

His heart couldn't take it.

"I am glad we did this," Ziva said, as she turned around in bed. The bed creaked with the movement. Tony took the opportunity to move his arm and try to wake it up. "I wanted to do this."

He studied her face, and reached up to move some hair away from her eyes. She smiled at him, a full beam of a smile.

"I'm glad too," he said softly. "Even if today does kinda remind me of college."

Ziva frowned, and a line creased her forehead.

"Because it is ten thirty?" she asked.

Tony reached under the duvet for her hip. He placed his hand on her hips, and was surprised by the ridges of her skin. He knew almost every scar.

He had forgotten about the cigarette burn that was there. A souvenir from her time on the horn of Africa.

Ziva's body had been through so much. Too much.

"Yeah," he said, as Ziva moved closer, and their knees banged against each other. "And, the fact that we had to wait until our roommate was out of the house, to do this."

Ziva did a sort of half laugh. They were so close that Tony could feel the vibration.

"With our roommate being our five and a half year old daughter?" Ziva asked.

He smiled. The half was very important. Tali was very good at reminding people that she was not just five, but five and a half.

"Yeah," he said, "You know, she's probably the worst roommate I've ever had. She doesn't pay a dime, doesn't do any chores, and makes such a goddamn mess."

Tali was a human cyclone, picking up things and dropping them off in completely random places. Tony found books in the bathtub once.

Ziva smiled. Her eyes twinkled. They always did when she talked about Tali.

"We created her," Ziva said, "We are stuck with her."

Tony laughed this time.

"I am sure we can give her some age appropriate chores," Ziva said. "I have been reading this book."

Ziva's nightstand had a stack of books. There was the parenting book that Jimmy had sent as a belated holiday present, the therapy book her therapist had recommended, and the fiction book she had picked up from one of the booksellers on the banks of the river Seine.

"You can take the lead on that one," Tony replied. "Our kid gets her attitude from her Ima."

"She gets it from both of us," Ziva said quickly. "Her tantrums are pure DiNozzo."

Tony leaned forward, and placed a kiss on Ziva's forehead.

"She's the best combination of us," he whispered.

"I hope so," she said, her voice getting heavy.

He knew where her mind was going, even after everything she lived through, there was still a part of Ziva that believed she was bad. Poison. A part of her that believed she deserved every bad thing that happened to her.

Quiet passed between them, as they looked into each other's eyes.

Outside a car horn beeped, and shouts of French that had been learnt later in life rose up from the street.

"I have a doctors appointment next week," Ziva announced, "So we do not have to worry about being so prepared. That will help this feel less like college."

On the previous Friday, while Ziva did the grocery shop, Tony had stepped into the pharmacy, and brought a packet of condoms. Embarrassment had reddened his face, as he walked up to the counter to buy them. The pharmacist assistant, a woman who seemed perpetually bored, had raised her eyebrow to her hairline, as Tony put the packet on the counter.

Maybe, he shouldn't have brought the ones that were ribbed for her pleasure. It had been so long since he brought condoms.

"You know I still can't tell whether the pharmacist thought I was buying them for a teenage son, or because I was an American abroad who was going to try some local cuisine" he said.

"She probably judges everyone," Ziva said softly, as she took his hand. "I thought you would like this feeling like college, you did like to date coeds."

Tony grimaced.

"I did," he said. "But, I'm a Dad now, Tali's closer to college than I am."

He did not want to imagine Tali being so old. It seemed like yesterday, he walked into Vances office, and Orli introduced him to his daughter. Her daughter. Their living breathing, already walking daughter, who changed everything.

"I always wanted to go to college," Ziva admitted, with a slight smile. "I know I would never have the experiences like you and Tim used to talk about, but I liked the idea of getting a degree. Especially because I was around so many people who had advanced degrees."

He wondered if that had been on her new 'I will' list, the one they had buried under the olive trees.

His, the one that had been written on the plane home, had included 'learn how to live without her', knowing that there was no chance of that.

"You still could," he said. "You'd be way better at school than I was."

It still amazed him that he managed to get a degree amongst all that partying.

"We live in Paris," Ziva said, shaking her head. "My French is good, but not good enough for university level courses."

"I'm pretty sure there's a couple of international campuses here," he said, "Or you could do something online."

"I am nearly forty," she replied.

And, he was closer to fifty than he wanted to be.

"The best thing in my life didn't happen until I was over forty," he declared, thinking of Tali, and the smile that brought him out of the worst funk. "I know you drive like you have a death wish, but you've got a whole lotta life left."

He reached behind him, and touched the headboard of the bed.

"Touch wood," he whispered.

He had only just got her back, he could not even bring himself to imagine losing her.

"I have only just come back," Ziva said, her eyes focused on the ceiling. "I am only just learning how to cope with the choices I had to make. I do not think I have the mental energy for university right now."

"Okay, maybe not this year," he said softly. "But when you're ready, we can look into it. I did enjoy dating coeds."

If it would be another year or two until Ziva started university, maybe he wouldn't just be dating her, but they would be married.

Even after everything that happened, he wanted to marry her. He wanted to declare his love for her in front of everyone they loved.

Maybe one day, he told himself.

"I do not think it would be fair to Tali," Ziva said. "I have been gone for so long. College would take a lot of time."

"Most college classes are during the day," he said again. "Just like her school. She would barely notice you were gone. Besides, I'm retired so it's not like Tali would be a latch key kid."

"Do you think you will be retired forever?" she asked.

"Dunno," he said.

When it was just him and Tali, he was busy. Even when Tali was at school, he had lots to do. It took a lot to maintain a household, especially in a country where he did not speak the language.

Now, with Ziva sharing the load, he found himself with days where he had very little to do. Since Tali went back to school, he had been to the cinema once a week. He had also found time to finally do the therapy, he should have done three years ago.

"We have the money," Ziva said, delicately, "You could be retired for ever."

A trust had been set up for Tali, with the proceeds from Eli's estate, once a month an amount of money that could cover their expenses three times over appeared in Tony's account. Between that and the below market rent he charged the McFamily, they were more than okay financially. Especially, since Tony was rather frugal with the money set aside for Tali, he did not see it as his.

Tony had never aspired to be a kept man.

"We'll see," he said, with a shrug. "I haven't been thinking too far ahead, especially not during the last three years."

Survival had been the name of the game.

"Neither have I," Ziva admitted. "Even now, I find it hard to think too far in advance."

Ziva was still expecting the other shoe to drop, and everything to fall apart. So was he.

"Maybe, we should start to talk about it," Tony said. "Not the big stuff, but the little stuff. When Tali is off for summer break, depending on what happens with this virus stuff, I'd like to go on a vaccination. Still in France. Maybe, we could go to the Riviera."

"I would like that too," Ziva said, with a smile. "I have not seen much of France outside of Paris."

Tony smiled. He would show her some of the AirBnBs that he had been looking at. They needed somewhere with privacy.

Tony's stomach rumbled loudly.

Ziva smirked.

"Maybe, we should focus on the more immediate future," she said, as she reached her hands down to his belly, and patted it softly. "We have eggs, yes?"

The duvet ruffled. Another woosh of cold air attacked them. He needed to look at the radiator. It was too cold in the apartment.

The bed was so warm, he didn't want to leave, but he was hungry.

Ziva did not like the idea of breakfast in bed. She thought it was unsanitary. If they were going to be together forever, he was going to work to change that.

"Wait," he said, reaching out to grab her wrist. "There is something I want to say."

Ziva moved closer. Her leg wrapped around his.

"Okay," she said. "I am all ears."

"You got the one right," he declared.

"I lived in America for eight years," she replied. "I did pick up some things."

He smiled.

"What did you want to say?" she asked.

There was a rumble from her own stomach.

"I just want to say that I know today, wasn't my best performance," he said, his eyes focused at a point just above her forehead, "It's been a while, and it turns out I'm out of practice."

Ziva's mouth dropped open, but nothing came out.

"You mean-" Ziva started. Confusion furrowed her brows.

"In bed," he interrupted. "I haven't been with anyone since Tali came into my life."

Ziva looked up at the ceiling.

"I did not ask you to be celibate," she said.

She did not ask him to do a lot of things, but he did them anyway.

"It wasn't exactly a deliberate choice," he said. "For those first couple of years I had Tali with me 24/7, there was a phase where she was following me into the bathroom."

"I thought your father visited every few months," Ziva asked.

"He did," Tony said. "Usually for a couple of weeks, but I never left Tali with him for long. It would have been a couple of hours tops. I'm good but I'm not that good."

About a year after Tali entered his life, Senior had started suggesting that Tony download a dating app. Something he could use while Tali played in the park, and something that could be discrete. Tony had downloaded it to placate the old man, but had never even signed in.

Ziva would be back soon, and she was the only person he wanted to date.

"Besides, I never really left Tali with him at nighttime," Tony said softly. "You know how clingy she gets at bedtime. Even if Tali was less clingy at bedtime, I didn't want her to think she had to share me. I know what it's like when you're a kid and your Dad's thinking about his next screw rather than their kid."

Senior was bound for Paris at the end of the week, and was hoping to stay for at least a month.

Tony was hoping to take Ziva out on a proper date, their first proper date, while Senior was visiting, but he wasn't sure how Tali would react.

He wasn't sure how Ziva would react either.

They were supposed to be taking things slow. As slow as two people who shared a five year old and a tiny apartment could.

"Yes," Ziva said. "I am sorry, you had to go through that."

"Ziva, don't apologize," he said, feeling his voice crack. "There are worse things in the world, than me having to get very acquainted with my hand, because you were out there keeping us safe."

Ziva's eyes flitted around the room.

"I had to use my body," Ziva said, her voice barely above a whisper. "While, we were apart. Sometimes, it is the easiest currency to trade in. I feel like you should know that."

His heart broke for her.

Her body had been through so much. Too much.

"Oh Ziva," he whispered, as she pulled her closer.

"And, the medication I am on," Ziva started. "One of the side effects is minor sexual dysfunction. Perhaps that is why this does not feel like last time?"

"I don't want this to feel like last time," Tony said. "Last time we did this, we were saying goodbye."

Ziva's eyes welled up.

Last time was in her farmhouse. Last time they spent hours just soaking in each other. They touched each other tenderly, and held tight. It was goodbye. Goodbye, forever.

Except Tali had been conceived, binding them forever.

"I really thought that was goodbye forever," she said.

"I'm glad it wasn't," he replied. "And, I'm glad this is different from the other times we've done it, because it is different this time. We know we get to do this again."

Ziva nodded softly. Her eyes were watery.

"Do you remember what this was like, that summer Gibbs was away?" she asked.

Tony let out an all mighty cackle.

Those weekly visits to her apartment had started innocently enough, they had worked one of those backbreaking cases with a heartbreaking ending, and Ziva wanted to feed him. He did not understand it at the time but cooking was how Ziva showed love.

Then the visits became weekly, and sometimes twice weekly. At first the visits were supposed to be piano lessons, and then movie nights, because Ziva found an old television on the side of the street.

They fell into bed, one, two, three times.

The first time had been when they got too drunk with the team. They never talked about that time.

The second time had been when a case involved a dead child, and they both needed comfort. That had been dismissed by both of them as a moment of weakness. They had vowed not to let it affect anything. To prove the point they both made a show of dating other people.

The third time had been just before Tony went on his 'conference' to Dusseldorf. Tony had already been briefed on the Beniot mission, and knew that his Ziva's nights together had to end. He told her as much, when he picked up his stuff to leave the next morning. He pretended he did not see her face fall.

"I don't think I could do half of those moves," he said. "My back isn't what it used to be."

Ziva smirked.

"You know everytime I said it was nothing," she whispered. "I was lying. It was something. I was just scared of what it would be."

They had been so young.

"Me too," he said. "I wonder if we could have worked it all out then."

He wondered sometimes, if they would have survived their relationship, if it had happened like it did in the Deep Six books. Both of them were so afraid to let anyone in. They probably would have destroyed each other.

"I think our story was always going to be complicated," Ziva said. "Though, I could have done without some of our complications."

He nodded.

"I'm glad we get to do this," he said. "Even if it feels really awkward right now."

They had skipped straight to the awkward middle-aged post kids sex, without the years of good sex to sustain them. It didn't seem fair.

Not after everything they had been through.

"We will find our new rhythm," Ziva proclaimed. "In all of this. I believe that."

His stomach rumbled again. So did hers. Zva laughed. Her curls bounced.

"I should get started on those eggs," she whispered. "Before your hunger makes you faint."

Ziva showed her love through food.

Tony smirked. Ziva got up from the bed, and pulled his bathrobe back over herself.

Tony had been meaning to take her to get one of her own, but perhaps she could keep his. It looked good on her.

"If I feel really faint, I might have to eat Tali's cheese snacks," Tony said, as he got up, and collected a pair of boxers from under the pillow. Outside of the bed was cold, so he picked up his old OSU hoodie for warmth. "You know the ones in the yellow packet."

"And, how would we explain that to Tali," Ziva asked, as she sauntered through the doorway. "She will know if some are missing. She counts them."

"Well I figured, if she asks me I'll say you took one," Tony said, as he followed her into their living room. "And, if she asks you, you'll say I took one."

Ziva turned back, and shook her head.

"Do not bring me into your petty theft," Ziva replied.

"I've waited three years to be able to implicate you in my crimes," he shot back. "I deserve this."

"Perhaps we should save this defence," Ziva said, her voice like a purr, something she knew he could not resist. "For when she has those chocolate snacks, you know the one where you dip the little sticks into the chocolate sauce. I do not think the defence is something we will be able to use often."

A smile broke out over Tony's face.

"I knew you liked those ones," Tony said. "You should have seen your face, when Tali refused to share them with you last week."

Tali DiNozzo did not share food.

They reached the kitchen, and Ziva disappeared behind the door of the fridge.

"No comment," Ziva said.

Tony moved further into the kitchen, and started to root around for the frying pan. He wondered if they still had some of the bread they had brought home the day before. He was starved.

"The eggs will not take long," Ziva declared, as she closed the fridge, and placed the tray of eggs on the counter. She also brought out some mushrooms and tomatoes. Ziva made a good omelette. "Do you think you can exercise some restraint for a few minutes, or do I have to defend our daughters snacks?"

Tony stepped out of the kitchen, they had learnt pretty soon after Ziva came back, that their kitchen was not big enough for two adults to comfortably cook. It was barely big enough for one.

If they were going to start talking about the future, they were going to have to start talking about moving. Whether that was back to D.C, or simply further out of the city. Maybe, somewhere with a guest room, so that his Dad wouldn't have to stay in a hotel.

"The snacks are safe," he said. "For now. But, may I suggest breakfast in bed?"


	10. Past, Present, And Future Tense

Ziva pulled at the buttons of her coat, as Tony led the family around a corner. He had picked Senior up from the airport the previous evening, and dropped him off at his hotel to sleep off, and now they were going to meet him. Earlier that morning, Tony had marched them out of their apartment and to the metro station, saying they had a surprise, before they saw Senior. Ziva was getting used to Tony's surprises, they were always sweet.

Tali bounced with excitement. She loved her Pop-Pop, and could not wait another minute to see him.

Ziva was nervous. It had been over seven years since she had seen Senior. He had loved her then, but could he love her now, after everything she had put Tony through. She was a parent now, and knew the fight that almost all parents had, if someone hurt their babies they wanted to hurt them.

If someone even tried to hurt Tali in one of the many ways she had hurt Tony, Ziva would be ready to kill.

The street Tony had turned into was quiet, and Ziva felt Tali's hand thrust itself into hers. She noticed it was ungloved, but reminded herself that she had taken the gloves off of Tali on the crowded metro. The gloves were dangerously close to being lost, so Ziva stuffed them into her own pockets.

Tali was so careless with her things.

Ziva wrapped her hand around Tali's, and smiled. These little things were still so precious. The hand holding. The hugs. The chats on Wednesdays when they walked to ballet. Ziva had thought that Tali would have questions about their past, and Ziva's absence, but Tali's focus was on the present or the very near future. She wanted to know what was for dinner, or what movie they would watch on their Saturday movie night.

"We there yet?" Tali asked.

She might be rather European in her attitude to walking, willing to cover vast distances, but the excitement of seeing Pop-Pop again, was killing her. Tali had proudly announced that morning that Pop-Poop was her third favourite grown up, after her parents of course.

"Soon Tali," Tony said. "Pop-Pop's really excited to see you. Are you excited to see him?"

"Yes!" Tali screamed.

The scream made Ziva flinch. How could someone so small make so much noise?

A man walking a dog flinched as well.

They walked down the tree-lined street, and noticed that the area had become more touristy. There was the clunky sound of those rolling suitcases that Ziva hated. Ziva recognised some of the languages.

Spanish with a Chilean lilt.

Arabic, spoken by disgustingly wealthy people from the oiled states.

German, with all its constants.

"We need to cross the street," Tony announced. "Hold my hand Tali."

Tali grabbed Tony's hand, and Ziva felt a rush of love. The three of them were circuit, with love being their electricity. Tali was their connector.

The family stood at the zebra crossing, and Tony made an exaggerated gesture of looking for cars.

A taxi swooshed along the road, in the back of the taxi, a tourist was peering out, with an excited look on her face. Ziva knew that look, that was the look of someone being in Paris for the first time.

Ziva could remember her first time. It had been only for a few days, long enough to put a bullet in an arms dealer who was selling to Hamas. She remembered sitting on the back of the motorbike, and seeing the city through the helmet visor. Paris was something else.

It took you in, and made you fall in love with all of the little moments.

Ziva spent those kidon years, spending brief moments in foreign cities between assassinations, and Paris always remained her favourite.

"All right, lets go," Tony said.

They crossed the road. Ziva felt the slight relief of reaching the otherside unscathed.

She would always be waiting for the other shoe to drop. For the world to take away the people she loved the most.

The panic still reared its ugly head at times, but it was softer now. The medication worked, especially as the dosage had been adjusted for her. That and she knew how to challenge the panic, to start to tame it.

Still, she always held Tali's hand very tightly when they crossed the street.

"Daddy," Tali whined. "I'm tired."

Tony let out a laugh. Ziva knew what he was laughing at. Tali had woken her parents before dawn. Ziva had gotten up with her, and put her cartoons on.

"We're nearly there," Tony said, as they turned another corner. This street was quieter, so the family remained connected. "I promise."

Then Ziva saw it. Across the street was a cafe on a corner, with burgundy bricks and art deco windows.

She stopped, Tony and Tali did too.

"See Ima's tired," Tali whined. "No more walking."

"It's okay," Tony said. "We're nearly there. We've just gotta cross the street."

The postcard stands still sat on the outside of the tables, creating a border between the street and the cafe. Tourists sat at tables with maps and smartphones. On the edge, she noticed a group of Turkish men, taxi drivers who huddled near the hotels, rubbing their hands together and drinking strong coffee.

This was why she had chosen the little cafe. It was the real Paris, not the tourist traps Tony had done a whistle stop tour of. Ziva had enjoyed her coffee, and slightly burnt croissant.

She too, once upon a time, was wowed by the uniform apartments, and well dressed people. It was all so different from busy chaotic Tel Aviv. It was also so perfect and civil.

Now, Ziva sought out the other gritter side of Paris. Ziva saw the slightly confused immigrants from war torn lands who crowd in apartments that are too small to begin with, Ziva noticed their hope. These new Parisians had fought for this new life, and they would keep fighting. Ziva understood the fight.

"It hasn't changed," Tony whispered. "Not one bit."

Ziva smiled.

"No," she said, as Tali bounced on her feet.

"Where's Pop-Pop?" Tali asked, as she craned her neck.

"Inside," Tony said. "You know Tali, this cafe is very special to me and Ima?"

Tali screwed up her face in confusion.

"Why?" Tali asked.

Her daughter's favourite question.

Why? Why? Why?

"You don't recognise it from the picture?" Tony asked.

In Tali's defense the picture that hung in her bedroom is of her mother getting on the back of the scooter. You could barely see the cafe.

Ziva could still remember her face reddening, when Tony asked one of the taxi drivers to take a picture of them on the scooter.

It's like Roman holiday, he'd said, as he tucked the digital camera back into his pocket. That had been the height of technology back then.

Ziva could remember him giving her a copy of the picture in a frame the following summer, after the Reynosa cartel reared their ugly heads. Ziva could remember, hastily packing the photo and its frame into her backpack, a week after she handed in her badge, as she headed to Israel. She needed to take a piece of him with her. She could remember sitting in her empty apartment, her belly taut, and the creature that would become Tali kicking, she held up the picture and promised Tony she would explain it all to him. One day.

Tali shook her head.

"Well, this cafe is where Ima and I went when we came to Paris the first time," Tony said.

Tali noded, though Ziva wondered how much she really understood.

"Where me?" Tali asked.

Ziva felt a laugh rise through her. Tony laughed too.

"This was ten years ago," Tony said. "Before you were born."

Tali brought her hand toward her face, and looked at her fingers. She has trouble imaging a world without her.

Yet, she has only been in the world less than six years.

"Ten years," Ziva echoed.

Had it really been ten years?

For Ziva time is not always linear. The past lingered and tained the present. The future felt so far away.

"Almost to the day," he said, as he gave Ziva a soft smile.

It would have been ten years exactly on the prior Monday, which they had spent getting reacquainted with each other in the biblical sense. Perhaps, the most fitting way to spend such an anniversary.

"Where Pop-Pop?" Tali asked, again.

Ziva looked down at her daughter, and placed her hands on Tali's perfect little cheeks, trapping some of her curls.

"We will see him soon, Motek," Ziva said.

A tourist passed by, with a surgical mask on his face, and trundling a rolling suitcase. From the corner of her eye she can see Tony tense up. She took one of her hands from Tali's cheek, and reached for Tony's hand. She squeezed it.

She had not been there when he had the plague, but she knew enough to know that all these masks brought up unwelcome memories.

"You know that hotel we stayed in is gone," Tony announced as he turned to look at his family. "I'm not surprised."

Ziva looked toward the end of the street, at where the hotel used to be. She noticed scaffolding over the building.

"According to the article I ran through google translate, they're gonna turn it into one of those pod hotels," Tony said. "They won't need to do much renovation."

Ziva scoffed.

The tiny room on the fifth floor. The elevator that did not work. The tiny bed, that was apparently a double. The en suite, that reminded Ziva of when she was still learning English and came across the outdated term water closet.

Despite what they told Abby and McGee, there was no couch.

And, there were no other rooms available. Other foreign visitors had been fooled by the inaccurate photos, proximity to the Eiffel tower, and cheap prices. They worked for the government, it was all about cost cutting. Especially back then.

"Maybe we should show Tali," Tony said. "After we feed her."

Tali's head moves having heard her name.

"I starvin'" Tali declared.

"Like Lee Marvin?" Tony asked.

Tali nodded. Her eyes wide. For just a second, the years washed away, and it was just Ziva and Tali in the farmhouse. Ziva told Tali how much her Abba loved her, and how he was going to look for her.

"Hear that Ziva," Tony said, dragging her out of her memories. "Our kid is starving."

"We best feed you," Ziva said, looking down at her daughter.

Tony took Tali's hand and turned her around with a dance. Ziva took Tali's other hand, and the family stepped out through a gap between two taxis. Tony made his exaggerated show of checking the road for cars.

The taxi drivers, a chorus who moved together, looked up from their table. Eyeing the little family as a potential fare.

They crossed the road, and stood outside the cafe. Tony looked through the window of the cafe, and saw that the old man was talking to someone. A woman, with grey streaks in her long hair. Ziva could tell it had been blonde once upon a time.

"That man never changes," Tony said, as he pointed Senior out to Ziva.

Ziva felt a hitch in her chest.

What would Senior make of Ziva's return?

Would he forgive her?

She had caused so much pain.

Those thoughts echoed in her head.

Then came another thought, she had missed him, so much.

She knew Tony and Senior had to work through a lot to get to this point, but Senior had always been nice to her.

Senior had treated her like a daughter-in-law, long before she came one.

"Ima," Tali whined. "Did you and Daddy fall in love here?"

Ziva stopped short. She blamed all of those movies Tony watched with her, where the Princess fell in love at the end. Ziva, only a month in, preferred that Tali watch the movies with the talking animals. She really liked the one, where the two dogs got lost in New York city, and hoped Tali would choose that for their next movie night.

"Not exactly," Tony said delicately.

Ziva remembered the tiny hotel room, and the little bed. She remembered Tony in his boxers, standing in front of the bed. Ziva tugged at the blouse she had been wearing earlier that day before, and was prepared to sleep in. Tony could not see her scars.

Both of them had expected to have their own rooms, and neither had brought something that constituted pyjamas.

Ziva had prepared herself for a sleepless light. It was only a few months since she was prepared to die in that dusty cell, and nightmares still haunted her. She vowed, to only doze, so Tony would not be witness to the pain that came out after dark.

Somehow, Ziva fell into a deep sleep. Maybe, the familiarity of Tony's snoring. Maybe it was the jetlag.

She woke at some point, to Tony's voice.

Ziva, wake up.

Saleem's face was right at hers. He had his knife to her neck. A cigarette hung out of his mouth.

Ziva, Tony called, tugging at her shoulder. It's just a nightmare. Wake up.

Ziva woke up with a startle, and to Tony's face etched with concern.

He had offered to let her talk about it, but she had declined, but tugged at her blouse. The polyester fabric was constricting, and had ridden up to her neck in her sleep. She took it off without thinking and threw it on the floor.

Tony's eyes widened as he saw the cigarette burns on her shoulders, which were barely covered by the spaghetti straps of her undershirt.

Saleem Ulman had a pack a day habit.

Oh, Ziva, he whispered.

Ziva tugged the duvet high over her shoulders.

We should go back to sleep, she said.

Tony's arm moved closer to her, so that it was almost touching her waist. It was one of the few, non medical touches, she had received in months.

Then she fell asleep. A deep, nightmare less sleep.

With Tony she was safe. For the first time in months she finally felt safe as she slept.

She had woken up to the sun dawning through the too thin curtains, Tony shuffled around, and was fully dressed.

I'm going to be a tourist, he said, as he adjusted his shirt. Wanna come with, your French is better than mine.

She shook her head, and sent him on his way. He left the key card on the narrow desk, which was far too big for the room. Ziva would organise check-out.

Tony, she called, as he stood at the door, his overcoat folded over his arm. Thank you.

Tony looked down at his shoes. They were still so awkward in those days. Still so unsure.

No problem, he said, as he pulled at the door handle. See you later.

"Where did you make love?" Tali asked.

Ziva turned to look at Tony, with her eyebrows at her hairline. Tony grimaced and then erupted into giggles.

This was going to be one of the stories Tony told Tim during their monthly Skype chats.

Ziva laughed too. A full bodied laugh.

Tali looked at her parents with a confused look.

"I think you mean fall in love," Tony said, still smiling. "And, we fell in love in America. It just took us a while to get to our happy ending."

Ziva nodded.

Tali looked at her parents.

Senior got up from his seat, ditching the grey haired lady.

"America," Tali said. America was a foriegn country to her. "I born in Israel."

"Yes," Ziva said softly. "I moved back to Israel, and you were born there."

"You were there?" Tali asked. "When I was born?"

Ziva chuckled to herself. She remembered the hospital room, where she had watched a sunset and then a sunrise. She remembered the waves of pain, the worst pain she had ever felt, but the most productive.

She remembered holding Tali, all fresh and new, and feeling this overwhelming burst of love. Nothing else mattered, except the tiny person in her arms.

"She kinda had to be," Tony said, with a chuckle.

Ziva looked at Tony, waiting for a small sign of the anger that came when they talked about what had been missed, but nothing came. He smiled proudly.

Today, their daughter was hilarious, and that was all that mattered.

The bell of the cafe chimed.

"Pop-Pop," Tali cried out, as Senior stepped out, wrapped in a coat that looked very similar to Tony's.

The older Tony got, the more he became like his father.

In a matter of seconds Tali had moved from Ziva's side, and had wrapped her arms around Senior. Ziva looked at Senior and smiled.

"Hi Tali," Senior said. "I've missed you so much."

Tony patted Senior's shoulder, and walked into the cafe. Before the door closed, he turned to Ziva and mouthed the word 'croissants'. Ziva nodded. Tony disappeared behind the door, and strode straight to the counter.

Tali pulled away from Senior, and reached out for Ziva.

"Pop-Pop," Tali started. "Dis Ima."

Senior chuckled to himself.

"I know your Ima," Senior said, as he stepped forward, with open arms. "Hello, sweetheart."

"You know Ima?" Tali asked. Her eyes were wide.

Yes child, Ziva thought, the world did exist before you were born.

"Yes," Senior said, as he wrapped his arms around Ziva. "It is so good to see you."

Tali tugged at Ziva's coat, wanting in on the hug.

Senior stepped back, and let Tali in.

"I have missed you," Ziva whispered. "So very much."

Senior's eyes were watery. He placed his hands on Ziva's shoulders.

"Me too," Senior said. "I am so glad this all worked out. You and Junior deserve your happy ending."

"And me," Tali cried out.

"Yes," Ziva said, as she got out of Senior's embrace, and bent down in front of Tal. She bopped Tali's nose. Tali giggled. "And for you most of all."

A sniffle came from Senior, and Ziva looked back up, to find Senior's teal blue hankie quickly wiping his face, before dipping into his pocket.

"Are you sick Pop-Pop?" Tali asked.

Her school had devoted a whole hour to teaching the kids, the best method hand washing. Kids were expected to monitor each other for signs of illness. Tony joked that all those kids were going to end up with a complex.

"No," Senior said, his voice cracking. "I'm crying."

"You sad?" Tali asked.

"No," Senior said. "I am so very happy."

Ziva got up, and placed a hand on Senior's shoulder.

"Because Ima home?" Tali asked.

Senior nodded.

"Yes," he said, as he wrapped his arms around Ziva again. "I'm so glad your Ima is home."

"There is so much I need to explain," Ziva whispered.

"No," Senior said. "It's water under the bridge."

Ziva frowned.

Father and son had the same coping mechanism, just keep moving forward. Don't think about the past.

It was something Ziva was far too familiar with.

Senior was making the most of the Schengen visa rules, and would be in Paris for ten weeks.

The questions would come up eventually, and she would be ready to answer them.

"I am so glad Junior won't end up like me," Senior whispered. "He was always gonna be a better father than I was, but I didn't want to see him try and fit someone into a Ziva-shaped hole."

Ziva felt a tear fall down her own face.

The bell on the shop rang again, and Tony stepped out of the shop with a cardboard tray of drinks, and a big paper bag.

"Daddy," Tali squealed, and rushed toward him.

Ziva carefully reached in front of Tali and held her back, before she crashed into Tony. Senior liberated the paperbag from Tony's hand.

"It's crowded out there," Tony announced. "There's a park the next block over. I think someone needs to get some fresh air."

"Daddy," Tali said as she wriggled out of Ziva's embrace. "Those cups are bad for the ocean."

Zero-waste, and the evils of single use plastic was another lesson Tali got at school.

"We'll recycle them, Tali," Tony said, even though the plastic lined cups could not be recycled. "And, Ima will make sure we remember the special cups next time."

In one of the high cupboards, in their tiny kitchen, there were three brightly coloured reusable coffee cups, that Tali encouraged her parents, and Senior when he was in town, to use. Tony and Ziva remembered the cups approximately sixty per cent of the time. Tali had proudly presented Ziva's cup to her, on Christmas morning. It had a blue lid, and an orange band.

"If Daddy had told me where we were going I would have brought them," Ziva muttered.

"Even the special one for Pop-Pop?" Tali asked.

"Yes," Ziva said. "Even Pop-Pop's cup."

Tony handed his Dad a napkin with scratchy writing on it.

"Ebba would like you to email her," Tony said, as he reached out for Ziva's hand. "She is in Paris until the 20th, and said if you are ever in Stockholm, she would like to show you around."

Ziva smirked.

Some things never changed.

"Thanks," Senior said, as his face reddened. "As soon as I saw the three of you, I just got up."

"I explained it was a bit of a family reunion," Tony said, with a smile.

"It certainly was," Senior whispered. "Today is one of the happiest days of my life."

Tony nodded at his father.

"These last six weeks have been amazing," Tony said softly. "Hard in places, but amazing."

"Pop-Pop," Tali said, tugging at Seniors coat. "Let's go."

Senior took Tali's hand.

"You've heard the little lady," Senior said. "Lead the way Junior."

Tali started babbling to Senior about the complicated social hierarchy of her kindergarten class.

"Do you come here often?" Ziva asked, as she and Tony meandered to the park.

"When we first came here, I kept looking for it," Tony declared. "I couldn't remember the name of the hotel for the life of me. And, my French was pretty terrible."

Ziva gripped his hand.

"A couple of years ago, I had to get a document translated so Tali could go to nursery school, and the translators office was 'round here," he continued. "Dad was visiting so I was making the most of my kid free time to wait in lines and only have to bring one pack of snacks. I found the cafe, and just stopped short. After the appointment I went in for a coffee, but it was just too hard. A part of me, expected me to walk in and see you sitting there nibbling on a croissant."

Ziva let out a deep breath.

"I am sorry," she said.

"Ssh," he huffed. "We get this now. That's what matters."

"Maybe, we could go back there one day," Ziva said softly. "Maybe, when Tali is at school. You did say you wanted us to go on more dates."

Tony smiled.

They talked about things now. The past, the present, and the future. Their present wasn't just about making sure Tali was okay, but the two of them finally having a normal relationship. Their normal relationship included regular dates.

"I'd like that," he said.

"Daddy," Tali cried out, causing both parents to turn to face their offspring. "Are we there yet?"

All three of the adults laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I struggle with writing Tali, and when I wrote this I definitely wrote Tali too young. I don't hang out with many kids. I write her better in later chapters.


	11. Wednesday, Friday, Monday

I. Wednesday

Tony tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, and let out a kid friendly approximation of a swear word. Even when Tali was nowhere near him, he still felt the need to protect little ears.

He hated driving in this city.

Ziva had asked him why he had bothered to get a car, when they so seldom used it.

As an American, it never occurred to him to not have a car. He might have been born within a stone's throw of New York city, but on Long Island the car was king.

The car had been supreme ruler when he'd gone to college in the middle of Ohio. Except for the time his car had been blown up, and the time his car was smashed into, he had never been without a car since his freshman year.

A cyclist pulled out in front of him, and Tony honked his horn.

He really hated driving in this city.

Then he saw them. He saw Ziva first, her long coat, open over the rust colour sweater she had been wearing when she knocked on their door to come home. Then he saw Tali, with her puffer jacket zipped to her chin. Ziva was trying to pull Tali along, but Tali was having none of it.

He pressed his horn lightly, and waved through the window.

Ziva waved back. Tony got a good look at Tali, and her red nose.

He rolled down the window.

"I'll find a park," he called out. "And, I'll call you when I find one."

Ziva smiled. Tali frowned.

Tony closed his window, and let out another swear word, this one not kid friendly. If there was one thing he hated more than driving in Paris, it was parking in Paris.

Parallel parking was a test that it always took a few attempts to pass.

If it had just been Ziva, he would have told her to quickly jump in, but they had Tali, who was a walking petri dish.

Tali had come home from school on Monday with some sniffles. She had done a dramatic sneeze at the dinner table, with her boogers landing right on Tony's potatoes.

On Tuesday, she had seemed a little sicker, but had not had a temperature. They had asked Tali if she wanted to go to school, and she did. At dinner on Tuesday night, Tali had let out another mega sneeze, this time it had landed right on Tony's face.

On Wednesday, Ziva had been the one set to drop Tali off at school, because Senior needed Tony. They had gotten all the way to school, before Ziva decided that Tali was too sick.

She had called Tony to say she was taking Tali to the doctor.

That had been two hours ago.

He scanned the side of the road, conscious of how far away he was from the doctor's office. The doctor's office was a twenty-five minute walk from their apartment, but Tony had done that with a sick Tali once, not long after she graduated from the stroller, and it had taken twice as long.

The doctor's office was also in one of those awkward places, where getting on the metro, would involve a ten minute walk in a direction away from home.

He scanned the road again, and saw a small truck trying to get out of a loading zone.

Bingo.

The truck carefully moved out of its spot, in a well-practiced ballet. Tony felt tempted to applaud the driver.

He pressed the call button on his phone.

"You are about to pull into the loading zone, yes?" Ziva said as soon as the phone connected.

"How do you know that?" he asked.

Had he synced the GPS to Ziva's phone by accident?

"One of the first things my father taught me was how to track a car," Ziva announced.

Tony felt his heart sink.

Ziva was probably younger than Tali, when she learnt how to do that.

Their daughter would never learn such things.

They would protect her from the horrors of the world.

"Okay," he said. "We've probably only got a few minutes before le parking inspector sees me."

"We will hurry," Ziva said.

Tali whined in the background.

"Ima, slow down."

The clock on the dashboard rolled over three times, before Ziva and Tali reached the car.

Tali was red faced and grumpy, as Ziva put her into her booster seat. Ziva put Tali's backpack on the spare seat.

"Daddy," Tali whined, her voice scratchy. "I don't feel well."

"I know," Tony said, as he looked at her through the rear view mirror. "But, we're gonna go home soon, and we'll look after you. You'll feel better soon."

Tali nodded. A dramatic nod.

Ziva placed a kiss on Tali's forehead, and Tali swatted her away.

Tony could not see Ziva's face, but knew exactly what look had washed over her.

Hurt.

Ziva would swallow thickly, and give Tali a soft smile.

Tali's door closed, and Ziva opened the passenger door.

"I saw le parking inspector," Ziva said, as she pulled the seatbelt over her torso. "We better go."

Tony looked behind him, and started the careful dance of getting out of the parking space. His ballet would be much less graceful than the truck driver's.

He hated parking in this city.

He got out of the spot, and let out a breath he was holding. Parking was always harder with an audience.

Ziva rifled through the messenger bag she had taken to carrying, in their new life. It was like Mary Poppins bag, seemingly endless. She did not seem to taking anything out, but rather seemed to be keeping herself busy.

"So what's the verdict?" he asked.

Ziva stopped moving through the bag, and looked at him.

"Just like what you said it was," Ziva said softly. "A bad cold. She probably caught something worse in the doctor's office."

Tony frowned. His words from the earlier call came back to bite him. When Ziva had decided Tali was too sick for school, and called him, he had suggested she just bring Tali home, and skip the doctors.

"Well," he said. "I'm glad you got her checked out. Especially, with that virus that's on the news."

Ziva turned and looked at Tali, who had fallen asleep, and was leaning her head on the window.

"I would have done the same thing," he said, reaching for her hand. "I've done the same thing more than once. The doctor probably thinks we're these crazy American hypochondriacs."

They moved ever so slightly. Ziva turned, and looked out the window.

"The receptionist at the doctor's office thought I was the Nanny," Ziva said. "She said the Nannies are always over cautious, especially when they are new."

"You're on her file," Tony said."They know who you are."

"The receptionist has just came back from maternity leave." Ziva said. "She had not seen Tali in nearly a year."

Tony let out a breath. The receptionist Ziva was talking about, had always been ditzy.

Up ahead, car horns beeped.

"Still, we gave them the paperwork," Tony said. "So that you can make medical decisions for her. The doctor obviously knew who you were."

Tony remembered those days after Tali went back to school, where he and Ziva had to go to Tali's school and the doctor's office, and present Ziva.

This is Ziva, she is Tali's mother.

Yes Tali does have a mother.

"I am her mother," Ziva whispered.

Tony squeezed her hand.

"I know that," Tony said. "So does Tali, that's all that matters."

"I know it has only been two months," Ziva said. "But, I still feel like I have to explain my presence in my own daughter's life. The receptionist is not the only person who thought I was the nanny."

They were not as friendly with the other parents as they should be, but their daughter was a popular child, and parents often walked up to Ziva with birthday invitations requesting that they be given to Tali's Dad.

"We're always gonna be explaining things," he said. "It is what is."

Just like how people always asked what Tali was like as a baby, and Tony had to decide whether to make something up or tell the truth.

Actually, I wasn't there, Tony had explained to a complete stranger at a toddler music class, while the kids shook maracas. Me and Tali's Mom, we were kinda complicated.

"I know I am overreacting," Ziva finally said. "It has just been a long day."

The clock on the dashboard of the car told them it was not even midday.

"I know," he said. "And, it's only going to get longer."

Ziva grimaced.

"I take it she is still very dramatic when she is sick," Ziva said.

"Oh yeah," he said. "And, we'll both have whatever she has by the weekend."

"Speak for yourself," Ziva said. "I have a very good immune system."

"Oh just you wait," Tony said, shaking his head.

II. Friday

Tony climbed the last stair to third floor, and pushed on the fire door. Senior let out a heavy breath, they shouldn't have taken the stairs. Senior was over eighty. They should have waited for the rickety elevator, but Tony wanted to get home. He wanted to give his girls their presents.

"I must admit Junior," Senior said, his breaths becoming less laboured. "I'm a little glad you and Ziva aren't going out tonight. Ebba is only here until the twentieth."

Ebba was the pretty woman from Stockholm that Senior had met in the cafe near his hotel. She was in Paris to meet her newest grandchild, and the two of them were visiting art galleries and having dinner dates. It was all rather innocent, and very sweet.

"I'm glad your granddaughter being sick means you can go on a date," Tony said, as they made their way down the hall to the David-DiNozzo apartment.

Senior smirked.

"It's Valentine's Day in Paris," Senior said, as he adjusted the bouquets in his arms. "It doesn't get more romantic than that."

Tony smiled.

"I know," Tony said. "I had quite the date planned. I was gonna sweep Ziva off of her feet."

Senior patted Tony's shoulder.

"You two will have a great date next week," Senior said, "Lord knows the two of you have waited long enough."

Tony smiled.

"It'll be less crowded next week," Tony said, having made peace with the change of plans on Thursday evening. "And, I'm sure you and Tali will have fun."

"Oh yeah," Senior said. "It's been a while since we've had a tea party."

They reached the door of the David-DiNozzo apartment. Tony fished his keys from his coat pocket and opened the door.

Tali was laying on the couch, her head resting on Ziva's lap. The Secret Life of Pets played on the television, Tony silently thanked the universe that it was not Frozen that was playing, both he and Ziva hated that movie.

Ziva was wearing a black turtleneck that made her look very French. She was flicking through something on her phone.

"Daddy," Tali said, her voice still croaky, as she slowly pulled herself up from Ziva's lap. "Pop-Pop!"

Ziva put her phone down, and pressed pause on the television. The screen froze on a close up of a dog's nose.

Tony closed the door behind him and Senior, and the two of them shed their coats. Tony did the careful dance, of moving the shopping bag from his shoulder to the shoe rack, without revealing its contents. Senior managed to remove his coat without harming the flowers, he was well-praticed at this.

"Who are those for, Pop-Pop?" Tali asked. "The flowers."

"You'll have to ask your Daddy about that," Senior said, "I'm just holding them."

Ziva stood at the edge of the couch, with her eyebrows raised.

"Sit down ladies," Tony said, as he picked up the canvas shopping bag from the shoe rack. "And, I'll give you your gifts."

"Gifts," Tali echoed as she clapped her hands together.

Their daughters' love language would always be gifts.

Ziva took Tali's hand and led her to the couch.

"What is the occasion?" Ziva asked.

"You don't know what today is?" Tony asked.

Ziva shook her head.

"Presents, Daddy," Tali whined.

"Tali go get the calendar from the fridge, please," Tony asked.

Tali frowned.

"Then we have presents?" Tali asked.

"Yes," Tony said softly.

Tali scampered to the kitchen. Senior moved around the couch, and followed Tali to the kitchen, leaving the flowers on the table.

"Somebody's better," Tony uttered.

"Oh yes," Ziva said, as she looked out toward the kitchen. "Though my throat hurts."

Tony nodded.

"Mine too," Tony said. "Ever since she was in Pre-K,, she's brought every single bug home, and given them all to Daddy. Now, she gets to give it to Ima too."

Tali came back to the living area, holding the magnetic calendar that sat on the fridge. It was a freebie that the school sent to mark important school dates and remind parents of tuition due dates.

"Why don't you show Ima what day it is?" Tony asked.

Tali's tiny fingers pointed to Thursday 13th February.

Tony shook his head.

"No," Tony replied. "That was yesterday."

Tali pointed to the next day.

"Valentine's Day," Ziva whispered. "I had not realised."

Tony nodded.

"Dad reminded me yesterday," Tony said, remembering the phone call where Senior had asked if Tali was feeling better, and whether he was still needed as a babysitter. Tony had thought Valentine's Day was the following Friday. "These gifts were just a last minute thing."

Ziva's eyes stayed fixed on him. A long lingering look, that said much more than they'd ever say with words.

"Presents now," Tali interrupted.

Tony picked up the canvas bag, and handed envelopes to each of his girls. Then he moved across the living area to the dining table, and picked up the flowers.

He looked at his father, who was standing in the kitchen drinking a glass of water, and texting.

Tony returned to his girls. Ziva had helped Tali open her card. The picture was of an elephant holding a heart shaped balloon.

"To Tali, Happy Valentine's Day. I love you more than the whole universe. Love Dad," Ziva read.

Tony presented her with a bouquet of flowers.

Tali giggled.

"Happy Valentine's Day," Tony said, as he pressed a kiss onto Tali's cheek.

Tali giggled again.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Daddy," Tali said, as she wrapped her arms around Tony. Then she broke the hug, and turned to Ziva. "Happy Valentine's Day, Ima."

Ziva kissed Tali's cheek.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Tali," Ziva whispered, as she held Tali's cheeks. Then she bopped her nose.

"Pop-Pop helped me pick out the flowers," Tony said to Tali. "Go wish him a Happy Valentine's Day."

Tali scampered off toward the kitchen, leaving the flowers on the couch.

Tony handed Ziva her bouquet of flowers.

"These are lovely," Ziva whispered.

Tony opened the canvas bag, and revealed the heart shaped candies he had brought.

"I've also got these for after lunch," Tony said.

Ziva nodded.

"Good call," Ziva said. "Maybe, we should hide them in our room."

A quiet fell between them. Ziva looked down at the flowers.

From the kitchen, Tali wished Senior a happy Valentine's Day, and started telling him about the last few days.

"I was sick," Tali said. "And Ima and Daddy looked after me."

"Did you read your card?" he asked.

Ziva opened the envelope, and pulled out the card. She ran her hand along the gold script.

"This says to my wife," Ziva said.

Maybe, one day.

Tali would make an adorable bridesmaid.

"Well, my French isn't very good, and the selection was pretty limited," Tony said. "At least it doesn't say too my mistress."

"I do not think there are cards for that," Ziva said.

"We're in Paris," he said. "You'd be surprised."

Ziva opened the card.

"Dear Ziva, Happy Valentines Day. To this day and many more special days together. I love you. Love Tony," Ziva read, running her finger under the words. "This is very sweet."

Tony smiled.

"I'm glad we get to do this," he said.

"Me too," Ziva said, as she patted Tony's hand. "If I had remembered it was Valentine's day, I would have gotten you something. These days, I am not so good with time."

Ziva lived in the past, present and future all at the same time. She had lived enough for a thousand lifetimes.

"It's okay," he said. "This is mostly for Tali anyway."

Ziva frowned.

"Valentine's Day is more of an adult holiday here, no?" Ziva asked.

"Yeah," he said. "But, I want Tali to think this is normal. That when she dates someone, that it's normal for the person you date to say that they love you. For them to spoil you. I want her to have high expectations."

"So she does not date anyone?" Ziva asked. "Ever."

"No," Tony said. "So she dates the right person. If she doesn't date anyone until she is thirty as a consequence of that so be it."

Ziva's eyes glassed over.

He knew where she was going, back to her own childhood. Her father had installed her with low expectations.

She was always waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"You are a good father," Ziva said, as she patted his arm. "And, an amazing partner."

Tony shrugged.

"I try," he said.

"I am sorry we do not get to go on our date," Ziva said. "I can only imagine what you had planned. You can be quite the romantic. It would have been just like a film."

Tony smirked.

"Dad's happy to babysit next week," Tony said. "It might not be Valentines Day, but it'll still be the best first date you've ever been on."

Ziva chuckled.

"I do not think we can call it a first date," Ziva said softly. "Our daughter is nearly six."

"And yet we've never been on a proper date," he said.

By the time Tali turned six in four months he hoped to have taken Ziva on at least a dozen dates. The type of dates that she would tell Tali about.

"Whatever we are calling it, I am looking forward to it," Ziva said, with a smile.

Tony smiled. Then he felt the familiar tickle in his nose. He managed to bury his nose in the crook of his elbow, before the sneeze came.

"Bless you," Ziva said.

Tali's head poked out from the kitchen.

"Are you sick Daddy?"

III. Monday

The closing scenes of the Princess Bride played on the television screen, as Tony blew his nose. The tissue was sandpaper on his red-raw nose.

As soon as Tali had started sneezing, Tony had known that the bug would make its way through their household.

Tony had been the second member of the family struck down by the germs. He had started sneezing on Friday afternoon, and then woke up on Saturday with body aches. Tony had only moved from bed to couch, with the occasional detour to the bathroom all weekend.

Ziva had transformed into a nursemaid, making sure he drank his fluids and ate something.

It had been so nice to be taken care of. He could not remember the last time he had been taken care of.

The door unlocked, and Tony craned his head to see in what configuration his family returned.

Tali had still been a little snuffly when Ziva had gotten Tali ready for school. They had decided to see what happened on the way to school.

Tali was clawing at the walls. Except for the daily walks for fresh air, Tali had barely left the apartment since she got sick.

Their daughter was also one of those weird kids who actually liked school. She definitely got that from her mother.

Ziva stepped through the door, a canvas shopping bag hanging off her shoulder.

She was alone.

"Hi," he said, looking at her. The black turtleneck stuck out from her open coat.

Ziva was one of the few women he knew who could make a turtleneck look sexy.

"Hello," she said, as she shed her coat, and bent down to pull off her boots. "Tali practically ran into school."

Tony nodded, and preseed pause on the movie. It could wait.

"She likes school," he said.

"I hope she always does," Ziva said, her voice croaky. The germs had started to penetrate the ninja's defences.

She moved around the room so she was standing in front of him. He ran his arm around her waist pulling her closer.

"You seem to be feeling better," Ziva said, as she pressed the back of her hand to his forehead.

"Well I've had a good nurse," he said, as Ziva's hand moved away from his head.

He reached for the hand, and pulled it to his mouth, and kissed it.

"I think it was the chicken soup," Ziva declared, as she placed a kiss on his forehead. "That recipe is a family secret, you know."

Tony smiled.

Ziva moved off of him. Soon she was sitting next to him. Their thighs touched.

"My name is Inigo Montoya, you killed my father, prepare to die," Ziva quoted as she stared at the screen. It was paused on Princess Buttercup and Wesley, about to reunite. "That is from this movie, yes?"

Usually, he liked it when she quoted movies, but this one hit a little too close to home.

The fallout from Eli David's death still lingered in the shadows. Past, present, and future all mixed up.

"Yeah," he said. "This is the ultimate sick day movie. I didn't know if Tali was going to be with you, so I thought that I better have something appropriate on."

Ziva nodded.

"Does she like this one?" Ziva asked.

"She still prefers the animated stuff," he said. Thinking of all the movies the two of them had watched together over the years. Of the newer Pixar stuff Tony preferred Coco and Inside Out, but Tali preferred Frozen and Tangled. "Maybe, we could all watch it together one day."

"I would like that," Ziva said. "And, in a year or two we can watch the Pirates movies."

Tony shook his head, but did not say anything. He reached for the glass of water on the side table, and took a sip.

"This one first," he said. "I want the bad to follow after good."

"But the Pirates movies are good," she said.

"We'll have to agree to disagree on that one," he replied.

"Fine," Ziva huffed.

Ziva moved her head, so it was leaning on his chest. His heart skipped a beat.

God he loved her.

"So is this your plan for the day," she asked. Her words vibrating off his chest. "Watching movies all day."

"Yeah," he said without shame. "It's been nearly four years since I've had a sick day."

Ziva moved her head from his chest, and sat bolt upright. He watched as that distant look washed over her face.

He could practically hear her thoughts. I should not have ruined his life.

He reached for her hand and rubbed it.

"Ziva," he whispered. "I'm not angry. The past is the past. Right now, I'm just really enjoying being looked after. Besides, it's probably been way longer since I actually had a sick day, working with Gibbs meant a lot of hundred hour weeks."

Ziva sucked in a deep breath.

Tony had woken up on Sunday morning to breakfast in bed, despite Ziva's policy on food in the bed. He had chewed on toast, and drank coffee with his girls around him. The almost-white February sun streaming through the window.

He had looked around and realised that was all he ever wanted.

"I know," Ziva finally said. "I suppose things are still tender. Maybe they always will be."

Tony nodded.

Scars could heal, but would never fully fade.

"Are you still thinking about the doctor's office?" he asked.

Ziva nodded slowly. The same sad nod Tali did sometimes, the one he used to see when she curled up next to him and asked to hear stories of her mother.

"I know that there are going to be more awkward moments," Ziva said softly. "And there will always be questions. I am working on making peace with that."

Ziva had cancelled her therapy appointment on Thursday to look after Tali, even though Tony had assured her that he and Tali would be fine for a couple of hours.

Tali was just so clingy when she was sick.

"We'll work through it together," Tony said as he patted her hand.

"So what is playing next in Cinema la DiNozzo?" Ziva asked.

Tony smiled.

"I'm thinking Goldfinger," he said, "But, I'm not sure. I'm thinking something classic. Did I ever show you His Girl Friday?"

Ziva picked up the canvas bag from the coffee table.

She pulled out an envelope and a paper bag.

"No, but I have seen it," Ziva said as she handed the items to him. "Here is a snack to get you through your marathon."

Tony touched the paperbag and recognised the stamp of the American deli a few streets away from Tali's school. Ziva had gone out her way to get this for him.

"I think we have had enough sweets over the weekend," Ziva declared.

Between the three of them, they had eaten all of the heart shaped chocolate Tony had brought home. On Saturday, Ziva and Tali made heart shaped sugar cookies. Tony had eaten the majority of those.

"Yeah," he said, as he opened the paper bag to find a Reuben sandwich. "Thank you."

He moved slightly and placed the sandwich on the coffee table. He would save that for lunch.

"Have a look at the card," Ziva commanded.

He ran his finger under the flap of the envelope, and ripped the paper. He pulled out the card, and found a photograph of the Eiffel tower at night.

"The card selection was limited," Ziva admitted.

"It's the message that matters," he said, as he opened it.

To Tony,

Happy Valentine's Day.

I am so glad that we get to do this.

Together. Finally.

I love you

I am so glad I get to spend forever with you.

Love Ziva.

He felt his eyes well up.

He reached for her, and placed a kiss on her mouth. She leaned in.

"I love you," he said, after the kiss broke.

"I love you too," she replied, as she looked up at him with swollen lips..

"Do you have anything you need to do, today?" he asked.

Ziva shook her head.

"Stay here," he said. "Right on this couch."

"Only if I get to choose the movie," Ziva replied. "This streaming service has the Pirates ones, yes?"

"No movie," he said. "Tell me a story."

"A story?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said. "The Princess Bride starts with the grandpa telling the kid the story."

"I do not know many happy stories," Ziva said.

Tony felt a familiar twist in his stomach.

"Well at least none that you do not already know," Ziva said. "Because you were already a part of them."

Tony smiled. They had happy memories. They would have many more happy memories together.

"What about what you said to McGoo when you said goodbye," he said. "I like that story."

Tony moved so that he was laying his head on Ziva's lap. His leg hung off the arm of the couch.

"Well, I gave him a hug, and he mentioned that Delilah had never been to Paris," Ziva said, as she rubbed his back. "And it was very nice. I had missed all of them so much."

"Me too," Tony murmured.

They really should organise a trip stateside.

"Then I said I will miss you most of all, scarecrow," Ziva said, as she looked right into his eyes. "And he said, The Wizard of Oz, Tony would be so proud. It really is not much of a story."

"I am proud," he said. "I'm so proud of you."

"For quoting a movie that was adapted from a book?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said. "But also for everything else."

"Thank you," Ziva said, her lip quivered. "I am proud of you too."

"What have I done to make you proud of me?" he asked, looking up into her eyes.

"You have been so strong for all of us," Ziva said. "And so patient with me."

Then she moved her head to the side, and let out an all mighty sneeze.

Tony let out a hoarse laugh, and leapt up from her lap to go find some tissues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit to Pro-Bee on tumblr for the TIVA/Princess bride analysis.


	12. Date Night

Tony stood in front of the turned off television and looked at his reflection. He tugged at his dress shirt, the nicest shirt in his post-NCIS wardrobe. He crouched slightly and looked at his hair. The gray was slowly taking over. It was also thinner than he would like.

"Junior," Senior barked from his spot at the dining room table. "Sit down. You're up and down like a Jack in the box."

Tony tugged at his shirt, it was a little tight. His post-NCIS diet was not much better than his daughters, and there had been a lot of comfort eating when Tali went down for the night.

His plan had been to drop a few pounds once things settled down. But, Ziva had other ideas. She created culinary miracles in their tiny kitchen. Ziva had even gotten Tali to change her opinion on tomatoes that were not in sauce form.

For Ziva food was love, and cooking food for her family was showing her love. Ziva had so much love to give.

Tony sat down in front of Senior.

"You're nervous," Senior said, looking over his reading glasses.

From his and Ziva's bedroom, he heard Tali's giggle. Such a sweet sound.

"That tickles, Ima!" Tali's voice filtered into the living area.

Tony turned toward the room, and smiled. Tali was helping Ziva get ready, it was a real-life dress up. Tali loved to dress up.

Tony turned back to his father.

"Well, it's a first date," Tony said. "If I wasn't nervous I wouldn't be doing it right."

It had been nearly two months since Ziva returned to them, and now they were finally going on a date.

"It's not really a first date," Senior said. "It's not like she's going to ghost you if it doesn't go well. You two already live together, and have Tali."

Tony smirked, momentarily proud that Senior knew what ghosting was.

"Maybe not," Tony said. "But, this date has been a long time coming. I want it to be perfect."

"Two months is a long time," Senior said as he looked down at the paper on the table.

Senior still wrote letters and sent postcards. Tony wondered who Senior was writing to now. The man had so many 'friends' in faraway places.

"I've been planning this date for longer than that," Tony said. "Way longer."

Senior looked up.

"How long?" Senior asked.

"When we handed in our badges nearly seven years ago, I really thought it was finally our time," Tony said. "Then Ziva had to go to Israel, and everything happened there. While, I was trying to her, I had a lot of time to think. I started to imagine all the dates I would take Ziva on, once we came home. I never thought-"

He never thought Ziva would not be coming home with him. Even after their Casablanca kiss on the tarmac, he still expected Ziva to run up the stairs behind him. She had brought a ticket to get through security.

Instead he had waved from his window, until he could not see her anymore.

"Well, you get to make up for lost time now," Senior said. "And I'm here until Easter so you can take her on lots of dates."

Tony nodded, and looked toward the doorway to his and Ziva's bedroom.

"Good job," Ziva said, her voice in the special octave she used with Tali.

"You look so pretty, Ima," Tali said.

Tony turned back to Senior.

"Ziva hasn't really had someone who does romantic stuff for her," Tony said. "I want to give her that. She deserves that."

While Ziva had been recovering from the germs that Tali had brought into the house, she had told Tony that she was looking forward to their date. She had also explained that she had not been on many dates. Before she moved to America, her partners had usually been some sort of colleagues with benefits type situations, and then when she first moved to the U.S, she had tried to date but her job was always a stumbling block. So, she dated people who understand the job, often those who also had some sort of badge, and had no idea how to romance her.

Ray had tried to be romantic in a paint-by-numbers way, but he didn't really know her. He didn't know that Ziva would almost never order desert, but would share desert. Tony had learnt a long time ago to ask for two forks with desert.

"Well, I don't want to see you two until at least midnight," Senior said.

Tony chuckled.

"I don't think we'd make it until midnight," Tony said. "We're early birds now. Tali doesn't understand the concept of snooze."

Senior looked at his watch.

"The reservation is at seven right?" Senior asked.

Tony nodded.

"We wanted to be ready early," Tony said. "We don't know how Tali's gonna react. Since Ziva's been home we haven't left her anywhere. I told you what she was like on the first day of school after Christmas break, and what happened that time I got stuck on a train."

The sobs that he had heard through the phone on the hurried afternoon still haunted him. He never wanted to hear his daughter be that upset again.

"It'll get easier," Senior said.

Tony nodded.

"Yeah, it will," he said. "But, for the time being we plan for it. I mean the last few weeks have been really good. All this planning might be for nothing."

Tali might send her parents off on their date without so much as a wobbly lip, knowing they would be home soon.

Her parents would always come back. Both of them. Always.

Eventually, Tali would internalise that fact, and would not need reminding.

Senior's eyes flitted around the room. Tony knew where the older man's head was drifting off too.

Senior had dumped Tony in boarding schools and sleep-away camps without a second thought.

Tony had never known where his remaining parent was, or when they would be coming back.

"You're a good father," Senior whispered.

Tony shook his head.

"It was Ziva's idea," he said. "She's the one who had to deal with the meltdown last time."

Ziva had been the one to suggest that they let Tali know what they were doing. On the planner on the fridge, Ziva had written Daddy and Ima's date underneath the meal plan. Tony had been the one to suggest that they give themselves ample time to get ready, in case Tali had a melt down.

During Tali's much earlier than usual bath time that day, they had talked to Tali again. As far as Tali was concerned, they were going out to eat gross adult food, and go for a boring walk, while she got to spend the evening with her Pop-Pop. As far as Tali was concerned she was going to have a better evening.

"I think she'll have a tougher time leaving, than Tali will," Tony added.

Except for the morning runs, and occasional visits to the store, when Tali was not at school, Ziva was available to her. Tali just had to call for her, and Ziva appeared.

"She's trying to make up for lost time," Senior said. "Give her some time to find her feet."

Tony looked down at the table.

He knew this dance. He and Senior had been dancing this dance for a decade now.

Water was under the bridge, but the scars still stung when they were prodded.

"I know," Tony said. "We're working through things."

There was a lot to unpick, but they were doing it stitch by stitch.

Tali's giggle rippled through the apartment.

"You look like a Princess, Ima," Tali cried with delight. "So pretty."

Senior and Tony looked at each other and shared a smile.

Senior scribbled something on his paper.

"Who are you writing to?" Tony asked. "Lady Ebba?"

Ebba, Seniors new friend who he had met near his hotel, had returned to her native Stockholm the day before. For a few weeks, between their separate grandparent duties, the two of them had shared art gallery visits and dinners. It was all rather sweet.

"No," Senior said. "We exchange email addresses, and I am thinking of visiting Sweden in the summer. Ebba promised to show me around."

Tony smiled.

"The letter I'm writing is for Ellie," Senior announced.

"Ellie, as in Ellie Bishop?" Tony asked.

Senior nodded.

"The one and only," Senior said.

"Why?" Tony asked.

"To say thank you," Senior said. "I am writing one for each member of the team. They helped bring Ziva home to you and Tali, I want to thank them for that. I am so glad Ziva is home."

Tony's mouth dropped open, but nothing came out.

"I never thought-," Tony started. "I mean I've said thank you to Tim, and Jimmy when they've called, but I never thought about writing a letter."

Those calls were always far too brief; time zones, kids, and cases always got in the way, and since Ziva came home the calls had to be shared. Ziva had six years to catch up on.

Tony had tried to say thank you to both men individually, but both had brushed it off.

I'm just glad it all worked out, McGee had said, before launching his angst about his vasectomy.

"You've been busy," Senior soothed. "Let me say thank you on behalf of the whole family."

His family. Ima bear, Daddy bear, and their little cub, with regular visits from Pop-Pop bear.

"So are you going to deliver them when you go back?" Tony asked.

"I was going to," Senior started. "But April is a long time away, I might send them to Jimmy, and get him to distribute them. I want them to read them soon."

"Can I see them?" Tony asked.

Senior looked down at the letters, and frowned.

"It's okay," Tony said, "I know they're private. I just wanted to know what you said."

Senior picked up an envelope, and handed it to Tony.

"This one is for Nick," Senior said as he handed it over. "I know you two have never met, but he's a good man."

Tony heard so much about Nick through the regular chats with Jimmy, and McGee, and Ellie's emails that he felt like he knew the guy. Especially now that Ziva had met him.

He reminds me a little of you, Ziva had said when she described the younger man. He puts on a mask sometimes, but the person underneath is a good person.

"I didn't write as much to him," Senior said, as Tony opened the letter, and read the words on the expensive paper.

His father had such beautiful handwriting, something Tony had not inherited.

"What does this P.S at the bottom mean?" Tony asked, pointing to the bottom of the off-white paper. "Ziva says stop being a wuss. Life is too short."

Senior chuckled to himself.

"Ziva says that Nick likes Ellie, and she thinks Ellie likes Nick too," Senior said. "She's encouraged him to ask Ellie out a couple of times now."

Tony laughed.

He remembered when he and Tali had finally settled down in Paris, and McGee had video chatted revealing his elaborate plan to propose to Delilah, with the sun in a perfect position. Something that would not be happening for months.

Even though Tony had been hurting, his advice had been simple.

Don't wait, life is too damn short.

And a week later he had received an email with a photo of Delilah showing off her new ring.

"She met them twice," Tony said. "How could she even know?"

"She said you can smell it from a mile away," Senior replied. "I think she meant that you can see it. But she's right. Those two have something."

Tony raised his eyebrow.

"How come you never told me about this?" Tony asked. "You've met this Nick guy a few times, and you and Bish go out to lunch all the time."

Senior swallowed thickly.

"It seemed a bit cruel," Senior admitted. "To talk to you about two work colleagues who like each other but are afraid to admit it, considering yours and Ziva's history. I didn't know what it would bring up."

He and Ziva had wasted so much damn time.

"I doubt Nick and Ellie are as complicated as Ziva and I," Tony said.

Senior shook his head.

"No," he said, "But, it just felt cruel, especially when it was just you and Tali."

Senior had not known Ziva was alive until Tony called him on Christmas eve, and asked the older man to make sure he was sitting down. Then Tony had moved the computer camera, so that Senior could see Ziva and Tali playing. Then once the old man had calmed down, had given Senior a very sanitized version of what had happened over the last three years.

"There were things you couldn't tell me," Senior said. "And, with the information I had, I thought I was doing the right thing."

"It doesn't matter," Tony said. "It's just the age old story. Two people who can't get it together. That's the stuff movies are made of. Hopefully those two sort it out, sooner rather than later."

Senior handed Tony another letter. This one was addressed to Ellie.

"I am still making sense of the last four years," Senior said. "I got a bit carried away in my letter to Ellie, she's a good listener."

Tony ran his eyes over the letter. He read how Ellie had helped make Senior the happiest Pop-Pop ever, and how everything was going well in Paris. Then he got to the lines about how Senior was finally starting to understand why Tony had chosen to stay in Paris.

Tony laid the letter down on the table.

"I'm sorry," Tony said, as he looked at his father. "I'm sorry I never told you that Ziva -."

"I've read the Gabriel Allon books," Senior interrupted. "I know whatever Ziva was caught up in, was bigger than all of us."

"Oh it was," Tony said. "It was hard keeping you in the dark, but it had to be done. For everyone's safety."

The less people that knew the better.

"I understand," Senior replied. "Well, I'm trying to."

"I had to keep it all a secret," Tony said. "And, well Gibbs' has a rule about secrets."

"I didn't think you followed all of his rules anymore," Senior replied.

Tony smirked.

They should have broken that pesky rule twelve years ago.

"Well, not all of them," Tony said. "But, I do follow this one. It's rule 4. The rule is if you have a secret, the best thing to do is to keep it to yourself, the second best thing is to tell one other person, there is no third best. Ziva already told me her secret, I couldn't tell anyone else. It was too big a secret to risk."

Senior nodded.

"I get it," Senior said. "And, I'm just really glad it all worked out."

"Me too," Tony said softly.

Senior handed Tony another letter, this one addressed to McGee. Senior had talked about how natural it looked to see Tony, Ziva and Tali together. Finally.

You know the two of them as well, or maybe even better than I do, and you know how much they have been through. It is just so right to finally see them be happy. And, I am happy by extension

"Honestly Junior, I was getting a little worried about you," Senior said softly. "With how you always used to refer to Ziva in the present tense, and how you only ever told Tali, that her Ima was 'away'. When I booked these tickets last fall, I got it into my head that I was finally going to talk to you about that. I was going to tell you that you had to start using the word dead, and making efforts to move on."

Tony nodded. He remembered the dating app Senior had downloaded on his phone, and the gentle prodding by Senior for Tony to make other efforts to move forward.

"I'm glad that we don't need to have that conversation," Tony said. "Really glad."

"Me too," Senior said. "Though who's to say, whether I would have actually said what I planned to."

Tony ran his hand along the edge of the paper.

"You could have written me a letter," Tony said. "You're good at these."

"When you were in school," Senior started. "I thought about writing you letters, and explaining myself. I always used to take the notepads in hotels, telling myself I would write you a note. I never did. I was so caught up in myself back then."

Tony frowned.

He wondered if his ten year old self might have been soothed by a note from his father in a faraway place. Or if it would have just added fuel to the fire of his anger. He was such an angry child.

"I get it Dad," Tony said softly. "Your wife died, and you suddenly had a kid to look after all by yourself. I've seen it from both sides now."

"Before I knew the truth about Ziva," Senior started again. "I wondered if your lack of moving on was because of me. If it was because I moved on too quickly, and you didn't want to make my mistakes. I mean you quit your job within days of finding out about Tali. You've never hired a Nanny. You didn't even pretend to be interested in dating. I was engaged again, not even two years after your mother died."

Tony reached across the table and took his Dad's hand.

"It's like I said," Tony said softly. "I've seen both sides now. I know that when you put me in schools and camps, you were doing the best with what you had. Things were different when Mom died. I let it go a long time ago. I'm glad I did, because I don't know how I would have gotten through the last few years without you."

A tear fell down Senior's face.

"Tali loves her Pop-Pop," Tony said.

The door of his and Ziva's bedroom opened, and Tali rushed out.

"Daddy," Tali called as she rushed toward him, skidding so that she did not crash into him. "Ima is so pretty."

Tony moved some of Tali's hair away from her face.

"Hello Munchkin," he said, "I know, Ima is pretty, just like you."

"Today, she is extra pretty," Tali announced. "She did make-up. The brush for the make-up tickled my nose."

Tony smiled as he studied his daughter's face, mentally tallying the features she had inherited from him, versus the ones she had inherited from Ziva.

God, they had made a beautiful child.

"Did it?" Tony asked, as he pulled himself up from the seat, and took Tali's hand. He turned back to his Dad, who wore a smile, and was putting the letters back in the envelopes. Tali tugged at his arm. "Did Ima say she was ready to go?"

"She did," Ziva called from the hallway.

Tony felt a breath hitch as he caught sight of her. She was wearing a burgundy dress that hit just above the knee, over a pair of sheer black tights. The dress had long sleeves with cuffs at the wrists, like so much of the wardrobe in her new life, but what got Tony excited was the neckline of the dress. It dipped low. The date Tony had planned involved a lot of them sitting opposite each other. Tony would have a long time to admire the view.

"You look amazing," Tony whispered, as he stepped forward, and took in the rest of Ziva. Her hair was pulled back, showing off the curve of Ziva's neck. Earrings hung from her ears, and Tony could see Ziva had put on some make-up, a natural look that had taken hours to perfect.

"You scruff up well too," Ziva replied.

"Scrub up," he corrected, as he took her hand into his. "Where were you hiding that dress?"

Their apartment was tiny, and except for a few high cupboards lacked hiding places.

"I have my places," Ziva said. Her painted lips made her smile more obvious. "Shall we get going?"

"Yeah," Tony said. "Before we go, I wanna show you what Dad's doing."

"Has he finished the letters?" Ziva asked.

"He told you about them?" Tony asked.

"He mentioned them the other day, on our walk," Ziva said with a smile. Since Senior had come to Paris, he and Ziva went for walks every couple of days, from what Tony had been told of them Senior did most of the talking. "He just really wanted to say thank you. I thought it was very sweet."

"It is," Tony said. "Maybe, I should write some too. I tried to say thank you, but I don't think I really said enough. It's just hard to be on the other side of the line."

During his career, Tony had worked at least two cases where a wife and mother had to fake their death for her family's safety. There had been the happy reunions, but Tony had always wondered what happened after when everything went back to normal.

Now, he knew too well.

"I tried to say thank you too," Ziva said. "And, it did not feel like enough either. Maybe, all we can do is keep moving forward, and show them how thankful we are by being happy."

"Well, we can definitely do that," he said softly.

Ziva leaned forward and placed a tiny kiss on his lips.

"I wanna send mail too," Tali announced, reminding her parents that they were not the only ones in the room.

"You could draw some pictures," Senior suggested. "I'm sure Ima and Daddy's friends need something pretty to put behind their desks. Why don't you get your drawing things?"

Tali got up from her seat at the table, and rushed toward her bedroom.

"First, say goodbye to Ima and Daddy," Tony said as he broke apart from Ziva, and checked his watch. "We're going to dinner. Tomorrow you can show us all of your pictures."

Tali stopped, and looked at her parents. Tony waited for her little lip to wobble, but dipped her head to the left, something she did when she had questions.

"Dinner," she repeated.

"Yes," Ziva said. "That is why you helped me get ready. So I would look nice for dinner."

Tali nodded.

"So when you get home, I'll show you," Tali asked.

"Nuh-uh," Tony said dramatically shaking his head. "You'll be asleep when we get home. You'll show us tomorrow. Pop-Pop will make sure you go to bed on time."

Tali looked at her parents, and then at her grandfather. Senior winked at Tali.

"If you're good, I might let you stay up," Senior said, holding up his thumb and forefinger. "Just a little."

Senior knew when Tali's official bedtime was, and how late he could push it. These were the privileges that came with being a grandparent.

"Okay," she said. "See you later."

Tony's heart moved to his throat.

Had it really been that easy?

Tali stood in front of both of her parents and moved so that she could hug both of them.

"We will see you later, Motek," Ziva said softly, as she patted Tali's back. "Love you."

"Be good for Pop-Pop," Tony said, as he patted Tali's hair. "Love you."

Tali snuggled closer, and then stepped back to look up at her parents.

"Be good," she commanded, before running off to her room. "Love you.""

All three of the adults laughed.

It took less than two minutes for Tony and Ziva to put on their coats and shoes, and slip out of the apartment.

"Well, that was easy," Tony said, as they stood outside the door.

Ziva looked longingly at the door.

"It was," she said softly. "I think things are getting easier."

Tony took her hand, and squeezed it.

"Are you okay, with leaving her?" he asked, as they stood outside their apartment door.

Ziva nodded.

"Yes," she said, flashing him a full beam of a smile. "And, I am very excited for our date."

"You better be, Ms. David," he replied. "Because, your world is about to be rocked."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Gabriel Allon books are a series of spy novels about an Israeli art restorer who is also a Mossad operative. In my personal head canon Senior started reading them as airport reads and eventually got into them, because of the work his son and future daughter-in-law did for work. 
> 
> The upcoming chapters are set in March 2020 and beyond, so we'll see more COVID-19 mentions.


	13. The Calm Before The Storm

Tony unlocked the door of the apartment, and pushed on the door. The smell of baked goods filled his nose. He slipped his keys into his jacket, next to the car keys, and the crumpled up face mask. He hung the coat on his designated hook, and picked Tali's rain jacket up from the floor. She was so messy with her things.

Tali was sitting on the couch, wearing a plastic tiara from the dress-up box, and watching a French cartoon. Tony was too tired to try and make sense of the storyline.

It had been a long day.

Any visit to Charles de Gulle airport was exhausting, but it was even worse when there was a global pandemic.

"Daddy," Tali said, as she got up from the couch and revealed herself to be wearing her Princess dress over her school clothes. She held her arms out for a hug.

She had been clingy lately. Especially, after they sat her down to explain that Pop-Pop would be going home almost six weeks early.

"Let Daddy wash his hands," Tony announced. "Then we'll have a big hug. We could have a big squishy family hug, with Ima too."

He wanted to hold both of his girls. To keep them close. He had to keep them safe.

He had used hand sanitizer liberally, on his way to the airport, one his way back, and on the four block walk from the car park to the apartment.

Tali frowned. Then sat back down on the couch.

They had worked hard to keep this all from her. When they started their nightly habit of watching both French and American news, it was after Tali went to bed. With the volume as low as possible.

But, kid's were perceptive, and their house wasn't Tali's whole world. Her school spent much more time teaching the kids to wash their hands. The other kids were picking up on their parents' nervous energies, and whispered words, something about China and then Italy.

When her ballet classes were canceled for the time being, because her ballet teacher lived with someone who was immunosuppressed, Tali had asked if it was because of the virus, and they had to say yes. Tali's little lip had wobbled as they spoke.

When it was decided that Senior would be going home almost six weeks early, they had explained it was because of the virus. And, Tali had been much less stoic. She had slammed the door on her bedroom so hard, that door still did not shut right.

Tony had been close to tears, when he had to cancel the date he had planned for him and Ziva. A romantic river cruise along the Seine.

Tony walked into the kitchen, and found Ziva was also wearing a plastic crown.

"Are we having a tea party?" Tony asked, as he studied the cookies on the baking tray.

The cookies were triangle shaped, with the edges folded over, and fillings in the centre.

"Not exactly," Ziva said, as she moved across the kitchen and turned on the tap. Tony put his hands under the cold water. Ziva squeezed some green hand soap into his hands. Tony rubbed his hands together and watched the bubbles foam. "It is Purim today."

"Purim," he repeated, as he ran through the Jewish calendar in his head. All he could come up with was Jewish Halloween. "That's the dress up one, right?"

He rubbed his fingers with his other fingers. The soap foamed, making thick bubbles. The smell of the soap burnt his nostrils.

"Yes," Ziva said. "It is a minor holiday, but I thought it might be a good distraction for Tali."

Tony frowned and reached up to turn off the water. He grabbed the tea towel, and dried his hands. His hands rubbed on the cloth. He made a mental note to 'borrow' some of Ziva's hand cream later.

"How was pick-up?" he asked, as he leaned over the kitchen counter and checked on Tali. She was engrossed by the screen.

The television was their favourite babysitter. One they were trying to wean her off of, but had no chance if they ended up in lockdown like the news said.

Ziva picked up the saucepan lid, and steam filled the kitchen. Ziva poked something with a fork. Then closed the lid.

"She had lots of questions," Ziva said. "One of her classmates' family is from Portugal and her grandmother is staying in Paris until this is over. She wanted to know why your father had to go."

Tony sighed.

How did one explain visa's and the European union to a five year old?

Could Tali even say Schengen zone?

"You know I thought about that," Tony said. "I even called the U.S embassy to see what our options were. I liked the idea of having him close."

Ziva moved closer to him, and snaked her arm around his waist. Tony leaned into the touch.

"I told Tali that there was not room for him," Ziva said. "And, she said she would have shared her room with him."

Tony smirked. Tali's room barely contained all of her toys. There was no room for a guest.

Tali also tended to sleep talk.

"We would have killed each other," Tony said. "Dad and I function better when we have time apart."

Ziva smiled.

"I told Tali we will Skype as often as we can," Ziva said. She took a deep breath, and looked around the room. This was nerves. "Then she asked why we did not skype when I was away."

Away, was the best euphemism for it, but did not nearly describe those three years.

Tony let out a breath slowly. He studied Ziva's face. Her bottom lip wobbled, just like Tali's did.

He easily pictured the scene. Tali scooting along the sidewalk. Ziva balancing Tali's school bag on her shoulder. A question that would make her stop still in the middle of the crowds.

"What did you say?" he asked.

Tali had asked him the same question, after she woke up, and found Tony skyping the McUncle.

Can we do that with Ima?

No Ima doesn't do Skype, Tony said, as he took her into his arms. At four years old she was growing like a weed. And, it's past your bedtime.

That night he had let Tali settle in his bed, even though he was trying to get her to sleep on her own. He needed the comfort as much as she did.

"I explained that I did not have Skype," Ziva said, her voice shaky. "And that I wish I did, because then I could have seen her. I told her I missed her very much."

It was a half truth built on a house of cards. One that would fall apart once Tali was older.

Tali had been full of questions in the last few weeks. She had asked Ziva about the scar on her wrist. When Ziva had explained that she had gotten hurt, Tali had said that the scar was so bad, because Tony was not there to kiss it better.

This was progress. Tali and Ziva had built trust. Now that Tali trusted Ziva, she wanted answers.

"She is going to want more answers one day," Ziva mumurred. "I worry about that sometimes."

Ziva worried about a lot of things.

"And, we'll give them to her," he said as he reached for her hand. "Let's just get through the next few weeks first."

Ziva nodded, and gave him a slight smile.

"How was the airport?" she asked.

Tony sighed.

"Honestly," he said. "It was pretty scary. All these people were walking around in masks. I know Dad said he wanted to go home, but I wonder if we did the right thing. I mean D.C is so far away."

What if something happened and Tony could not get to him?

Senior was in his late eighties, and everyone they encountered liked to remind them that Senior was high risk.

"We will Skype everyday," Ziva said, using the same voice she used with Tali. "And, we organised for him to get some groceries. Ellie said she will try to call him every few days, to check in on him."

They had done everything they could.

"I know," Tony said. "It just doesn't feel like enough."

"Tali said some of her classmates have gone home," Ziva said. "That Australian family with the twins left over the weekend."

Tony knew the family she was talking about. The mother was perpetually tanned and spoke of the Hemsworth family like they were friends, as she apparently hailed from the same beach side town that Thor and his family lived in.

Sometimes Tali's fancy international school reminded him of his own school days. He had classmates who went on exclusive vacations, and had parents who came from famous political families. He did not want Tali to think it was normal. He did not want Tali to develop a complex about her parents' more modest lifestyle.

Maybe, he should have chosen something more local.

"I know it's not practical," he said. "But, a part of me wishes we were going home too."

Home. It had been so long since he had called it home, but since Ziva came home and they were finally free, it had become apparent that D.C was home.

Maybe, one day they would go home. Forever.

"We could," Ziva said, as she pulled out his phone from his pocket. She unlocked it, as if it was her own. She pulled up a flight app. "We could get on a plane."

This was Ziva. Always ready to run.

If it was just the two of them, maybe they could hop on a plane and work it all out later, but Tali needed routine. Tali needed somewhere nice to go to sleep.

Besides, they couldn't outrun this one.

"We don't have anywhere to stay," Tony said, as Ziva typed in the search bar. He started to think of all the reasons to stay; Tali's school, the only home she really knew, and her mental state. A global pandemic was no time to try and move countries. "Can't exactly kick out the McFamily, or crash with Dad, he's in a studio."

Technically, there was Gibbs' house, but Tony did not like that idea. He and Gibbs had barely said anything since Tony left. A global pandemic was no time to rebuild relationships.

"I know," Ziva said, as she gave him his phone. "And, Tali's life has been disrupted enough this year."

Tony rubbed the scar on Ziva's wrist. She had started to wear clothes with shorter sleeves since Tali had asked about the scar. She no longer worried about the scar scaring Tali.

"Besides," he said. "It's not like we can outrun this. It's worldwide."

Ziva shook her head.

"I am tired of running," she whispered. "So tired."

It was decided, they would stay put.

The pot boiled over, and Ziva moved across the tiny kitchen, lifted the lid, and steam filled the tiny room.

"Did Tali's school say anything?" he asked. "About what they would do if they close the school."

"Nothing more than the email," Ziva said, as she put the lid back on the pot. "The e-learning platform looks quite advanced. It has videos and there would be daily check ins. It seems like a lot of screen time."

Tony creeped across the kitchen and studied the cookies.

Ziva had made similar cookies for the team once. The Spring after Ray betrayed her. She had come in with the box of cookies, and talked to Ducky about Purim. Ducky had known the story, because Ducky knew everything.

Tony felt an ache in his gut.

Ducky, like Senior, was in extra danger because of his age.

What if they never saw Ducky again?

"My therapist is wanting to try an online session, to test the technology," Ziva said, her words tentative. "We have one booked in for tomorrow."

"Okay," he said. "I'll make sure I'm not here."

He'd been thinking about driving out to the Costco-like supermarket deep in the exurbs. They only had one hundred rolls of toilet paper. They needed more.

And, maybe a chest freezer too.

"You do not have too," Ziva said. "I will be in the bedroom. You can be out here."

"I'll give you some privacy," he said. "Besides we need to stock up."

"We have enough food for weeks," she said, shaking her head. "And enough toilet roll for the rest of the year."

"I want enough food for a month," he said. "Just in case."

"The news said if there is a lockdown," Ziva started. "They would not close the supermarkets."

"I know," he said. "But, I just want to be prepared."

He could not change this, but he could be prepared. Part of living in a country where one was not a citizen, was knowing that if things went wrong the government did not owe you a thing.

One day, someone with a stamp could end their Parisian sabbatical.

He stood in front of the cookies. He needed something to wash this anxiety down with.

"Those are for after dinner," Ziva said.

"I won't tell Tali, if you don't," Tony said.

"Tali counted out the cookies," Ziva said. "She knows exactly how many we are each getting. It is going to be split equally."

Tali was obsessed with fairness at the moment.

Tony stepped back.

"What are these called anyway?" he asked.

"Hamantaschen," Ziva announced. "My mother used to make these with us. I wanted to share that with Tali."

Tony nodded. He studied the cookies, not all of them were perfect. Some were clearly made by Tali, with the wonky shape and leaking filling.

Tony found those cookies adorable.

"And these cookies are specially for Purim?" he asked.

"Yes," Ziva said. "They are supposed to be Haman's hat. I thought I might explain the story to Tali over dinner."

"I got her books," he said. "All the books."

"Books?" Ziva repeated.

"Yeah," he said. "I would order them from Amazon, and Breena sent us a few. Tali and I read Hanukkah Mama, Christmas Daddy, and Hoppy Passover dozens of times."

Tony felt a warmth in his heart, as he remembered a smaller Tali all curled up next to him, as they flicked through the pages. Tali's eyes wide as she studied the pictures.

"You read her Jewish books?" Ziva asked.

"Well not just Jewish books," he said. "We read Tango Makes Three a few times, and Breena sent us a lot of books about single Dad families. But yeah, we read lots of Jewish books."

"For me?" Ziva asked.

"Yeah," Tony said. "But, mostly for her. Being Jewish is passed on by the mother right. I knew I probably couldn't do it properly, but I tried. We had books, and the menorah."

"I saw that," Ziva said.

"There's also a ton of videos online," he said. "We watched a lot of cartoons. I tried to find some Hebrew ones, but I wasn't consistent with that."

"Why did you do all of that?" Ziva asked.

"I figured you'd want that," Tony said. "For Tali to know she was Jewish, so that when you came back, it would be easier. And if-"

He sunk his teeth into his lips. He couldn't say this.

"And if?" Ziva asked.

Tony swallowed thickly.

"And if, something happened and you couldn't come home, I wanted her to have that knowledge base," Tony started, his voice shaky. "So, if she wanted to explore it later, she could. I wanted her to have that connection to you."

Ziva swallowed thickly.

"Did you worry about that?" she asked. "That I might not come home."

"Sometimes," he admitted. "Tali and I, both had some bad days."

Too many bad days to count.

"All I wanted was for the two of you to be safe," Ziva admitted. "I did not think of anything else. I knew you would take care of her. That was all that mattered."

Maslow's hierarchy of needs.

First you survive.

Then comes everything else.

For so long Ziva David was always fighting just to survive.

"Thank you," Ziva said after a few quiet seconds. "For doing this with her. It means a lot."

"It was just a few books," he said with a shrug. "And some videos. I don't know how far it would have gone. The Jewish community here can be quite insular. Or maybe, my French is just that bad."

Ziva smiled.

"I have not always done the organised side of things," Ziva admitted. "It is about the traditions, and passing them on. When Tali was little, I used to imagine sharing these traditions with her. When she started to talk I imagined her reading the questions at a Passover Seder."

"That's next month isn't it?" he asked. "Just before Easter?"

Tali's school calendar included the holidays from all the major religions.

"Yes," Ziva said. "I was rather looking forward to having a small celebration. It would have been just before your father flew out. It would not have been too religious. Just about the food, and sharing it with Tali."

Tony frowned.

"We can still have a celebration," Tony said. "We'll Skype Dad. He'd love it."

"I would like that too," Ziva said, with a slight smile.

Quiet passed between them.

Tali's cartoon played on the television. She started to giggle. Her laugh was such a sweet sound.

One of his favourite sounds in the world.

"Have you met the Rosenthal's?" Ziva asked. "In Tali's class."

"They have a boy, right?" he asked.

A boy who seemed to always be wearing some sort of stain on his clothes.

"Yes," Ziva said. "Asher."

Tali still thought boys had cooties.

"They are American too," Ziva said.

"Yeah," he said. "Isn't she some sort of journalist."

He felt a twist in his gut. Lately, he had been feeling the void of a career. He had been a cop, in some form of another for over two decades. Then he had become just a Dad.

Ziva had asked him a couple of months ago, if he wanted to be 'retired' forever, and he was not sure.

Could he find that elusive balance?

Two cups. Work and family.

"Yes. They are Jewish too," Ziva said. "Sara and I talk sometimes while we wait for the children. She was planning a Passover dinner, her parents were coming. She does not think it will happen, but she might do something for Rosh Hashanah."

Tony smiled.

"Look at you making friends in the school yard," he said. "Well done."

"You do not have many friends," Ziva said. "Sara said you always kept to yourself."

Tony's face burned.

"I didn't know who I could trust," Tony said. "Or, how to explain our very unique situation."

Ziva looked down at her feet.

"Sara has not asked," Ziva said. "Yet."

That yet hung in the air.

Sara Rosenthal wrote a regular column about unusual love stories. Tony wondered what she would make of his and Ziva's very complicated, very long tale.

And, their very messy happy ending.

"I like the idea of us making some parent friends," Tony said, knowing how lonely he had been in the last few years. "But I've tried to encourage Tali to be friends with Asher. She was not into it."

"Maybe things will be different in the fall," Ziva said. "Besides it may not happen. Who knows what the next few months will bring."

Worry swirled in his gut.

His Dad was so far away.

"Whatever happens," he said. "We will be okay."

Ziva gave him a slight smile.

"We will," she said.

Tali's cartoon ended, and she ran into the kitchen.

"Daddy," she shouted. "Where is my hug?"

Tony took Tali's hand and led her out of the kitchen and to the dining area. He bent down, and wrapped his arms around Tali. He pressed his nose into her curls. She smelt sweeter than usual, like sugar.

Tali squirmed in the hug, so Tony let go.

"That good enough for you?" he asked.

Tali smiled, then wrapped her tiny arms around him.

"Ima said you needed a big hug," Tali said. "Because you might be sad today, because Pop-Pop had to go home early. Are you really sad Daddy?"

Tony turned and looked to look at Ziva. She was emptying the saucepan into a colander over the sink.

"I was, but I feel better now," he said, as he leaned into the hug. "The cookies look yummy."

"Did you eat one?" Tali asked, as she broke the hug. Her face was all serious. Just like Ziva's. "Because they are for desert. It's Purim."

Tony chuckled slightly, and held up his hands.

"I promise," he said. "I haven't touched them."

"Good," Tali said. Her face was all serious. "Because we're getting four each."

Tony felt a laugh in his throat. Then he looked to Ziva, as she put the pasta through the sauce. They ate a lot of pasta these days, it was one of the few things Tali would reliably eat.

"Ima needs a hug too," Tali announced. "Big squishy hug."

Ziva turned the stove top down, wiped her hands on a tea towel, and walked toward them.

"If you insist," Ziva said, as she wrapped an arm around Tony, and another around Tali.

Tony pulled them both closer, and the three of them had a big squishy hug. Some of Ziva's hair tickled Tony's nose. Tali squirmed.

Tony closed his eyes as Tali started to wriggle out of the hug.

They were together. They were safe.

He was with his girls, and whatever happened he would be okay.


	14. Quiet Streets, Loud Thoughts

Ziva took a deep breath, as she opened the door to the apartment building. The keys felt slippery in her gloved hands.

You are nearly home, she reminded herself as she looked up the staircase.

She moved the shopping bag on her shoulder and ignored the dull ache that resided there. Normally shopping for their little family was usually a two person operation, and usually every few days. Not once a week, and not passing store fronts with the roller doors down in the middle of the day.

Normal life felt so far away.

She took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. Her breath was warm on her mask.

The paper crinkled.

Ziva thought of Tali's mask, a bright pink thing with a butterfly pattern on the front. An attempt to diffuse the horror of the pandemic, among the littlest citizens. Before, the school had closed the playground had been filled with kids in reusable masks in bright colours.

When Tony had presented Tali with the mask, Ziva's mind had drifted to another apartment high in the sky, in a city on a Mediterranean coast.

Of her own mother sitting three boxes onto the table, then opening the smallest, to reveal a gas mask. That tiny gas mask was held up to the smallest member of the family, another Tali, the original Tali, the one should not keep safe, to check for size.

Later, Rivka David, exhausted by yet another threat, would give her daughters a sharpie and let them draw all over the boxes. Hoping the butterfly pictures would make this all go down easier.

A spoonful of sugar makes the medicine go down.

The gulf war was raging. Iraq sent missiles addressed to Israel.

Ziva's father was away. Again.

Still his presence lingered.

All of our neighbours want us dead, Ziva.

Ziva adjusted the bag on her other shoulder. She told herself that she should have planned this better, should have made sure that the bags were evenly weighted. But, she had been in such a rush to leave.

The supermarket was eerie. The security guard was counting every occupant. A queue was forming outside. Ziva could only see the eyes of the people waiting, above their masks, to Ziva they looked angry.

Ziva's legs ached. It had been two hours since she left the apartment, as Tali logged into her daily zoom meeting for school. She had spent most of her morning queuing to get into the supermarket, showing off her shiny new ID, proof that she was un-dead. Once, she was out of the supermarket, she had walked briskly to the apartment, making the usually fifteen minute journey in ten.

She had to get home. She had to get back to them.

Her family.

She had fought so hard to come back to them.

Ziva stood in the foyer of the apartment building, and looked at the rickety elevator. The elevator she never took, because it put her on edge.

The panic was mostly tampered by the pills, properly prescribed this time, and the therapy sessions, but it would be lifelong affliction.

Ziva, her therapist had said in one of their early sessions, this is for life. It is like an old injury. Sometimes it will hurt, sometimes you will forget about it, but it will always be there. You must learn to live with it.

She had to learn to live first.

Ziva looked back at the stairs, and started to walk toward them. She heard a creak on the stairs. She looked up, and saw the masked face of one of the neighbours.

It took Ziva a second to recognise the neighbour, but once she saw his eyes, she knew he was the one with the bicycle, that was often kept in the lobby in bad weather. He was also the one with two girlfriends, one a bright blonde who dressed like a kindergarten teacher in bright colours, the other was a brunette who only wore black.

Ziva wondered idly which girlfriend he was in lock down with. If not both.

Ziva moved backward in the lobby, giving the man a wide berth.

Two meters apart. That was the rule. Tali could recite that rule.

"Bonjour," the man said, his dark hair longer than usual. He'd missed a haircut. So had Tony, but he wore it better. He had also refused Ziva's offer to cut his hair. No matter how good she was with a knife.

Ziva nodded at the man, and wondered if she was the first person the man had seen all week.

This lock down was scary enough, Ziva did not want to imagine doing it alone.

Her nights had been haunted, by visions of it all being taken away. Of Sahar and her vengeance still out there. Of Tony and Tali holed up in the apartment she now called home, without her.

The man slipped out the door of the building, a gloved hand on the door knob.

Ziva made her way back up the stairs. Her shoes echoed in the empty stairwell.

She stopped on the second floor, to place a small bag of groceries in front of their elderly neighbour Celine. The old woman with the colourful headscarves had been someone they finally met, when Senior was still with them, he talked to everyone. She and Senior had passed each other in the stairwell, and then Senior had bumped into her in the park, while she was with her little Pomeranian named Jacques. Tali had fallen in love with the tiny dog, and started a campaign to get a dog of her own. Ziva was ready to go to the animal shelter right that minute. Tony had to be the one to put hit foot down. Their landlord said no pets.

Celine had stories to tell of Paris from decades past. She knew all of Paris secrets, and Paris was a city that kept those secrets close to her breast. Her English was shaky, but with a lot of guesswork, and Ziva translating, she had been understood.

Celine had no family, and the chosen family she had built consisted of people in the same boat as her, and they were spread out over Paris, having been edged out of the city as gentrification swept in. Even though the David-DiNozzo's family's relationship with Celine consisted of that one Spring afternoon and the odd wave in the hallway, as soon as the lockdown was announced, Ziva had visited and offered to pick up groceries and prescriptions.

Celine's hair was still growing back after a case of toxic cell division. She was at risk.

So was Tony.

Ziva and Tony had fought about who would be the nominated shopper for their household. Tony had wanted to be the person, Ziva knew it was in part, because he would get claustrophobic spending weeks upon weeks at home.

But, as Ducky had told them over a grainy video call, if Tony got this, it would not be good.

She had only just come back to him, she could not lose him.

Ziva placed the bag of groceries on the chair outside Celine's apartment, and knocked carefully on the door. Then she stepped back.

She was halfway down the hall before the door opened. Ziva turned back and saw Celine holding her dog, and picking up the groceries.

"Thank you," Celine croaked out in English. A grey curl peeking out from underneath a bright scarf.

Ziva wondered if that was the first word Celine had uttered in days.

There was so much loneliness in the world.

Ziva rushed up the final set of stairs, and down the hallway. Her arms ached, but so did her heart.

She wanted to be home. She wanted to be safe.

She knocked on the door, something that had been pre arranged with Tony, so that she touched as few surfaces as possible.

Tony opened it within seconds, he was wearing the same grey sweatpants he had been wearing all week, and his OSU shirt, also days old, had a fresh coffee stain on it.

Ziva planned to suggest they start wearing grown-up clothes during daylight hours.

"Good timing," Tony said, as he took one of the bags from her. He was wearing gloves too. "Munchkin is about to finish her zoom class, and it'd be nice to feed her something fresh."

Pandemic or not, it would be a mission to get the littlest member of the household to eat her vegetables.

Once upon a time, the two of them might not have negotiated with terrorists, but dinners with Tali involved lots of pleading and begging from her parents.

Tony held out his hand and took the other bag. The gloves reminded Ziva of crime scenes, and of working crime scenes together. Of cold days, and colder bodies.

"I got those cookies she likes," Ziva said as she pulled down her mask, and stepped into the apartment. "The store did not have them last time."

She kicked off her shoes, and put them next to Tali's sneakers that lit up when she jumped. Ziva pulled off her gloves and mask, then she threw them into the plastic bag.

She closed the door with her elbow, and listened as Tali's voice carried through the apartment from her closet sized room.

Her class met three mornings a week on zoom, and Tony and Ziva took turns checking in on her. Ziva enjoyed that 'chore' more than Tony. Ziva liked watching her daughter, just be. As if catching these tiny stolen moments could make up for what had been missed.

Ziva peaked into Tali's room, close enough to steal a glimpse, but far enough away to avoid distraction.

Tali's curls were messy from her bright pink headset, and she was looking at the screen as her teacher spoke.

Ziva smiled, and then moved across the living room to the kitchen. Tony was unpacking the bags, and finding inventive places for things. He had stocked up before lockdown. There were tins stored in the space between the top of the kitchen cabinet and ceiling.

"We need a project for this afternoon," Tony announced as Ziva moved into the kitchen, and stood at the sink. "A good one."

She placed her hands under the tap, Tony leaned over, squirted some soap on Ziva's hands and turned on the tap.

Ziva ran her hands under the water and rubbed them together. The skin was dry, thanks to her liberal application of hand sanitizer in recent weeks.

"Was she wobbly this morning?" Ziva asked.

Tony moved to the fridge, and started putting the vegetables away. Ziva had over brought the vegetables, but she had grown tired of frozen vegetables. Even if Tony had assured her that they were exactly the same nutritionally.

Ziva liked fresh vegetables, she liked the preparation that went into them. She did not get to use her knife skills for much else.

"Yeah," Tony said. "She misses her friends, and wanted to go out with you."

Ziva frowned, and rubbed her hands together again. The soap foamed. Her fingers ached.

Their whole lives now revolved around keeping Tali occupied and distracted. Ziva knew they were in a lucky potion, this lockdown had caused no economic hardship, nor were they trying to balance childcare with working from home.

But, it was exhausting.

And, the distractions that worked well for Tali, did not work as well on her parents.

She and Tony played to their strengths. Tony did the fun and loud activities. He had been the MC for Tali's fashion show, where she emptied the dress up box. He organised for Tali's soft toys to sit on the couch and watch her practice her dance, because she missed dance class.

Ziva was better at the quieter activities. Ziva had been the one who sat at the table, as Tali did her crafts. Ziva had found release in twisting pipe cleaners. Ziva had been the one who 'helped' Tali bake cookies. Guiding Tali as they pressed the cookie cutter into the dough, would be one of Ziva's favourite memories.

They tried to Skype with Senior every day after dinner.

They tried to keep movies for weekends only.

They were better at keeping in touch with Senior, than limiting movies.

"If she knew what being outside was really like," Ziva said her voice cracking, as she washed her hands again. "She would be quite happy to stay inside."

Tony closed the fridge door, and moved toward her.

"That's way more than thirty seconds," he said, as he shut off the water. He wore an expression of concern, one Ziva often saw in relation to her. "You'll hurt yourself."

Tony reached for a towel, and patted her hands dry.

"Sorry," she said as she looked down at her hands. "I just-."

She wanted to make sure she was clean. That she did not bring anything back to them.

She always believed in the purification of water. Perhaps because she had grown up near the sea. Perhaps because of the mikvah.

In the weeks, after she had come back from Somalia, she had spent hours in the shower. Feeling her skin burn, and her hands become prune like. But, the dirt from that place, would not be washed away.

"Ziva," he said softly. "Are you okay?"

Ziva frowned. She opened her mouth, ready to parrot the line she always said in these situations.

I am fine.

But, she was not fine, and had not been all the other times she had said it.

"You haven't been sleeping well," he said softly.

That was the cruelest part of this. She was exhausted, but spent her nights tossing and turning.

Her nightmares were back. Sahar and Saleem in the same dusty cell taunting her.

You cannot keep them safe.

Ziva sucked in a deep breath.

No secrets. No lies. That had been the promise she had made to him, and to herself, when he opened the door to the apartment, and let her in to his and Tali's lives.

"No," she finally admitted. "I think this is getting to me."

"It's been a tough few weeks," he said, as he picked off the gloves from his hands, and threw them in a bin.

He then placed his hand on her shoulder.

Ziva took in a breath and let it out slowly. The weight of her anxiety made her chest ache.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked tentatively.

He could be so careful with her, like she was made of glass.

She had never known someone to be careful with her. Except maybe her own mother, but Ziva knew what it was like to love as a mother, how primitive it was. How like the urge to push, the mother had no choice, the body just did it.

Tony loving her, even after everything, was a choice.

"I thought going out would help me feel better," she said softly. Going out for a walk and some fresh air, was usually a remedy to a mental funk. "But, it made me feel worse. I had a moment when I was in the queue at the supermarket."

A moment of panic. A moment of pure fear.

The police were walking up and down, keeping the crowd in order. Two middle aged ladies were catching up, shouting at each other from two meters apart. Through their masks they shared stories of the teenage children, and then turned to the current situation.

One of the women could recite the number of cases and deaths, like a public health official, and Ziva had wished her French was not so good.

The panic built up. Slowly, like a pot on the boil.

Even when the women's conversations turned to one of their ex-husbands who was enjoying lockdown with his younger girlfriend, the panic remained.

Ziva thought of Senior, alone in his apartment.

Ziva thought of Tony and Tali, sitting safely in their apartment. What if she brought this back to them?

Ziva thought of the people on the outskirts of Paris. Of the Senegalese immigrants packed ten to room, and going out of their essential jobs, not knowing what they might bring back. While, at the same time the mega rich had decamped to their summer homes on the coast. She thought of the unfairness in the world. The women in the queue talked about this pandemic causing a bigger divide between rich and poor.

She had already caused so much suffering. She had borne witness to so much pain.

The mask had hidden the reddening of her cheeks. Ziva took in a deep breath, and let it out. Feeling the warmth of her breath.

She reminded herself about the crate of hand sanitizer, Tony had bought just before the panic buying started.

She reminded herself that they checked in on Senior at least twice a day.

She reminded herself that despite all the pain she had caused her family, by some miracle, they forgave her. She still had a chance to make this up to them.

Slowly, her breathing became less rushed. Her heartbeat calmed.

"You had a panic attack?" Tony asked, his face wearing obvious concern.

"Not exactly," Ziva said delicately. "It was an almost panic attack. I stopped it, before it became a panic attack."

It was a testament to how far she had come.

Tony ran his hand over his face. Ziva studied his stubble, and tried to remember the last time he shaved.

He was letting himself go.

"We can call the authorities," he offered. "We could make me the designated shopper."

Ziva shook her head.

"No," she said firmly. "If you get this, it could be very bad."

If he was the one going outside, waiting in the queues, if would no salve for her anxiety. Instead she would spend the morning pacing the apartment and riddled with panic.

"You know Ducky said that there are no cases of people who survived the plague getting this," he said.

Ziva thought of Ducky again. He was at risk too. And, so far away.

"Because there are so few cases of people surviving the plague," Ziva declared. "I am okay. Today was just a bad day."

Tony sighed.

"What do you need from me?" he asked. "To help."

This was him, always trying to make things better. Always wanting to fix things.

She loved him for it, but worried for him. Like Sisyphus he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"I could take Tali this afternoon," he offered before Ziva could answer his question. "Let you have some quiet time."

Ziva shook her head. She did not need to get any deeper into her head. She needed distraction. She needed to see Tali laugh, as they danced or feel her close as they cooked food together.

"I won't check the news in front of you," he offered.

"I think we both need to avoid the news," she said. "Thank you for wanting to help, but the panic is passing. I feel better."

Ziva leaned forward and wrapped her arms around him. He leaned into the hug.

"Are you okay?" Ziva asked.

"I'm okay," he said. "Solid six out of ten."

Ziva ran her hand over his face, feeling the almost week old stubble.

"Really?" she asked.

The farmhouse came back to her. The last time she could remember Tony looking like this.

"I get the message," he said, with a chuckle. "You prefer me, clean shaven."

Ziva was close enough to feel the laugh roll through him.

"I can help you shave, if you like," Ziva purred.

Tony shook his head, but smiled. It was so sweet. The light at the end of the tunnel.

"Have you given McGoatee your opinion about facial hair?" he asked.

Ziva shook her head.

"I do not kiss Tim," she said, as she rubbed his stubble. "And, Tim does not do that other thing to me."

Ziva looked around Tony, expecting Tali to appear, as she always seemed too, when things were getting steamy.

There was no sign of her.

Tony chuckled.

"I hope not," he muttered. "You know if you could be quieter, we might be able to do that more during this lockdown."

Ziva felt a shiver go up her back.

Before the lockdown, she had rather enjoyed her and Tony's lazy mornings in bed. Their time together was different now. It did not have the air of scandal that the summer Gibbs was away did. It was not the longing love making of that afternoon in Israel.

It was the happy relationship sex. It ebbed and flowed.

"It's about time we got used to doing that with a kid in a house," he said.

Most couples managed to work out a post-baby rhythm in the early months, when said child was a gurgling infant, not an almost six year old who liked to visit her parents in their room.

For them, parenthood was on a different timeline. Some things sped up. Some things heartbreakingly slow.

"If you shave," she purred, leaning right into him.

"If you insist, Milady," he said.

"Maybe, it will help me sleep," she said.

She had never been a good sleeper. Sleep made her vulnerable, and when she was vulnerable the past came back to haunt her.

"I'm going to try not to be hurt that you want to use me as a sleep aid," he said with a smirk on his face.

"You know what I mean," she said.

He nodded slowly.

"I'm having crazy dreams too," he said. "Apparently, it's a thing."

Ziva felt her heart sink. She had not noticed Tony's suffering.

The panic made her so selfish.

And, she had been selfish for so long.

"When?" she asked.

"They're not nightmares or anything," he said, with a shrug. "Just weird dreams. Like, I dreamed I was in New York for some reason, and you and Tali were in Paris. I couldn't get in touch with you, so I sent a video message to Gibbs. I think it's just my brain trying to make sense of everything."

Ziva felt a pang in her gut.

She could imagine them being separated for this, so easily.

"That is what keeps me up," Ziva said. "I keep thinking about what this would be like, if I had not been able to come back. Or if Sahar, had just been a front for another monster."

Tony sucked in a breath.

"I don't even want to think about that," he said. "It's bad enough worrying about whether this is going to turn into a 28 Days Later situation. I don't need that as well."

"I think about it a lot," Ziva admitted. "And, when I am not thinking about that, I am worrying about how this is all affecting Tali. It is only March and so much has changed in her life this year."

"She's fine," he said, as he turned to look toward Tali's bedroom. "When all this is over, the school and all the other grown up's are gonna be making sure the kids are okay. When she's old and grey she'll be telling her grandkids what it was like to grow up during lockdown, just like Dad does with World War Two."

Ziva admired his optimism. How he could envision future, some days it felt like she was struggling to keep afloat. It would be so easy to give up, and let the tide take her.

"And, I worry about you," she said tentatively.

Tony turned back to her.

"Me?" he uttered pointing to himself.

"Yes," Ziva said. "You are not a housebody-"

"Homebody," he corrected, interrupting her. "You've reverted, you know. Undone all my hard work."

"Whatever," she said. "I was just saying you like to be out in the world. You need to be around people."

"I'm fine," he said, as he ran his hand up his face, and reached up for his hair. "I mean it sucks, and I'm worried about Dad, but it is what it is. As long as you and Tali are okay, I'm okay."

Ziva placed a hand on his chest.

"I feel better when I wear proper clothes," she said.

Tony looked down at his outfit.

"I'll give you that," he said. "Would you believe me if I told you, I was going to clean the bathroom?"

Their little fish made a lot of mess in the bathroom.

"Is the bathroom clean?" she asked.

"No," he said, flashing her his thousand watt grin. "But, I intended to clean the bathroom. Then I started a movie on the tablet, and it was just so nice to have some quiet time. We're all so on top of each other."

Their apartment barely contained them before the lockdown, but now it was almost impossible to carve out space.

"And, the movie I was watching had swears in it too," he declared with glee. "I had my headphones on, so I didn't disturb our little scholar. I barely heard her, even with only one headphone in. The bathroom is pretty sound proof."

"That is good to know," Ziva said, not too sure what to do with the new information.

"It'd probably be a good place to do your therapy sessions," he said. "The Wi-fi signal is pretty good."

She knew this would come back to bite her. They had this tense discussion when the lockdown started.

"I cancelled my sessions," Ziva said. "Until this is over. You know that."

"I know it's not ideal to do it on the commode," he said softly. "But, I can keep Tali occupied for an hour if you wanna do a check-in. Maybe, it's a good idea?"

"I do not doubt that," Ziva said.

"Let me know when you make an appointment," he said. "So, I've got time to plan something. Might have to break our no movies on weekdays rule."

"Thank you," she said, "But, it will not be necessary. I will be fine."

Tony frowned.

"I know you don't want Tali to overhear some of the stuff you talk about," he said, repeating the argument she had made to him when she told him that she had canceled the online sessions her therapist had organised. "I know you are still making sense of the last few years, and what you had to do, but I can't watch you suffer. We don't know how much longer this'll go on for."

The word suffer hung in the air, and the apartment suddenly felt claustrophobic.

She had caused so much suffering, so much hurt, and yet she had also suffered.

If you prick us do we not bleed.

Maybe, she had suffered because she had caused suffering, but no matter who cast the first stone, everyone had gotten hurt.

When she told Tony to leave her in Israel, she believed with all of her heart, that she deserved all of that pain. All of that hurt.

Now, she was starting to understand that nobody deserves to suffer, and to hurt.

She could not fix the world, with her hurt.

"Sometimes," she said softly. "I have to remind myself that it is not just me that is affected by all of this. I had gotten so used to being alone."

Tony looked down at her.

"You're not alone," he said.

He had said those words to her so many times, in multiple languages.

One day she would believe it.

"Let me know when you book the appointment," he said again. "I'll plan a Frozen sing-a-long event with Tali. Your therapist will have to deal with us belting out Let It Go."

Ziva felt a laugh rise through her, and tears prick her eyes. She could picture the scene so easily.

He laughed too.

"Do you have someone?" Ziva asked. "Who do you talk to?"

Tony pulled out his phone from his sweatpants and showed her a text chain.

"Abby and I text everyday," he said. "She's really upset that she's not gonna be able to come over for Easter. She says Hi by the way, and sends hugs."

Ziva felt an ache in her stomach. She thought of their friends, and what this lockdown meant for them.

Jimmy and Breena had sent their daughter to stay with Breena's mother, because both of them were essential workers. Delilah was trying to balance working from home, with toddler twins. Abby's clients had nowhere to shelter in place.

This panic made her so self-absorbed.

"I make an appointment after lunch," Ziva said. "I will ask for the first available appointment, and try to make it a regular thing."

Tony nodded, a slow nod. Ziva rubbed his cheek. The stubble scratched her hand.

"And, I'll shave," he said. "And, put on my big boy clothes tomorrow."

Ziva laughed.

They would be okay.

"Ima, Daddy," Tali called as she scampered into the living area. Ziva noticed then, that she was wearing a nice t-shirt and pajama pants. "I'm done with school now. What's for lunch?"


	15. The Happiest Place On Earth

I. Opening Credits

Tony felt a triumphant smile cross his face, as the blue and white disney logo appeared on the television.

"Yeah baby," he said to himself, as he balled his fists, and did a triumphant fist pump.

It had taken him nearly an hour to sign up for a free trial on Disney plus, and get the streaming platform from his laptop to the television. All the digital wrangling had made him nostalgic for DVD's. For holding the box in his hands. For waking up to the looping menu on the television. For the extra's. The DiNozzo movie collection still included a handful of DVD's, mostly of hard to source variety, but the rest had gone digital.

He sat down on the couch, and flicked through the menu, recognising many of the titles as ones he had brought on his google play account for Tali. He had started renting the movies, not understanding just how many times his daughter wanted to watch Tangled, and had eventually learnt that it was a better return on investment to buy the movie, rather than repeatedly rent it.

Tali's giggle echoed from the open bathroom door. She and Ziva were playing 'hair salon' while Tony worked on his surprise. Hair salon was a game Tony was more than happy to pass onto Ziva, when she came back to them. Tali's curls tangled so easily, and she did not like to sit still. And, like ballet, Tony wanted his partner and their daughter to share something just for them.

Tali still went to him first, when things got hard, even if Ziva was right there.

Tony had thought that it would be easier for Tali, now that she was older. Things could be explained to her. A five and a half year old was more rational than a two year old.

A two year old that cried and screamed for her mother, until she was blue in the face.

Tony took in a deep breath, wanting to banish the sad thoughts that had bubbled up. He and Ziva would talk about that stuff, but not now.

Not when there was nowhere to go, if they needed a time out.

Tony flicked through the menu, making a mental note of some of the movies he had seen, surprised that a few of them were Disney movies.

"Shall we show your father?" Ziva's voice carried through. "Shall, I see if he is done with the surprise?"

Tony got up from the sofa, feeling the ache in his calves from the kids exercise video all three members of the family had done after breakfast. When this is over, Tony told himself, he would rejoin that gym, and actually go this time.

Tony walked down the narrow hallway, or the gallery as he had renamed it, when it started becoming a display space for Tali's quarantine artwork. Her productivity was enviable.

"Surprise is ready," Tony said, from outside the bathroom door.

"Yay," Tali squealed, as the door opened, and Tali rushed out. Her hair was in two perfect pigtails, and she was wearing clean clothes.

Ziva's resolution that they dress like grown-ups had fallen away as the lockdown moved from March to April, but she had insisted that each member of the household at least change their clothes from their pyjamas.

Ziva stepped out from behind the door, her hair was in a tight Lara Croft braid, and one of his OSU shirts over leggings.

"Wait on the couch," Tony called out to Tali. "Then, I'll show you the surprise."

Tali did as she was told, and sat down in front of the television.

"Let me guess," Ziva said, as she walked toward the couch. "Your surprise involves movies."

"Am I that predictable?" he asked.

Ziva stopped, at the end of the hallway, just before that narrow hallway opened into the living room. It was a spot that Ziva often stopped at to watch Tali from, taking her in.

"Sometimes, yes." she said, moving her head slightly, and whipping him with her braid.

"And, that's a bad thing?" he asked, as he stood next to her. She leaned her head on his shoulder.

"No," Ziva replied. "I just thought it might be good to do something more productive."

Ziva had turned lockdown into a series of projects. She had deep cleaned the bathroom managing to make the ancient tiles sparkle. She had organised Tali's toys, weeding out the ones she had grown out of, only to put the bag under their bed because none of the charity shops were open. Ziva spent hours in the kitchen each evening producing elaborate meals, even if Tali was still a bit iffy about most vegetables. They'd turned the corner on broccoli recently, and Tali had started eating the baby trees.

Tony knew why Ziva was like this. Ziva needed to be in control, and by scrubbing the bathroom until her fingers bled, gave her that sense of control for a few precious moments. For a few moments everything was okay.

Except nothing was really okay. Tony and Tali had only left their house for hurried walks around the block, every few days, at the crack of dawn, before the streets got too busy. Tony had used a walk outside, as a bribe with Tali, like he used to do with ice cream day.

The minute this was over, and the ice cream shop opened again, Tony was going to take his girls there, and buy them both double scoops.

He could not wait until the day, he no longer had to put Tali's tiny butterfly mask on her face, careful not to get her curls caught in the elastic.

"We're kinda running out of productive projects," he said, as he looked toward the dining area. The windowsill had been turned into a greenhouse. Ziva was trying to grow veggies from scraps, and some herbs. She and Tali were also doing an experiment, where they grew seedlings in different conditions. "We're allowed to be unproductive. It's a global pandemic."

"Daddy," Tali whined. "Where is the surprise?"

"One sec, kiddo," Tony said.

"Sorry," Ziva said softly. "I just-."

"This is hard," he interrupted. "I know this isn't exactly what you planned for Passover, but I thought some movies might cheer us all up."

Ziva patted his chest.

"Thank you," Ziva whispered. "Thank you for trying."

Passover had started the evening before, and Ziva had somehow managed to produce an exquisite roast lamb dish from their tiny kitchen. They had not managed to source everything needed for the seder plate, but Tali was mesmerized as Ziva explained Passover to her, giving her daughter a sanitized version of her own childhood. It was much better than all those picture books, Tony had read to her.

"That's all we can do," he said. "Just keep trying."

"So is there something special about these movies?" Ziva asked. "That makes them a surprise."

"Only that they come from the happiest place on earth," Tony announced.

Ziva looked up at him, with a frown.

"Disney movies," he whispered. "We're watching Disney movies. Disney plus finally launched in France. Tali and I have been waiting for this forever."

Ziva smiled.

"Disney plus is like Netflix, yes?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said. "But for Disney movies, and some NatGeo stuff, but I'm pretty sure no one's dropping seven euros a month, to watch a documentary about elephants."

"I like elephants," Ziva declared. Tali got her defiance from her

Tony felt a laugh roll through him.

"Maybe we'll watch that when munchkin goes to bed," Tony said. "At least we don't have to worry about her waking up, and walking in on something R-rated."

Ziva smirked at the memory of Tony's attempt to catch Ziva up on some of the pop culture she had missed during her time on the run, only for Tali to wake up and walk in on what was about to become a graphic sex scene.

"I think Tali will like the surprise," Ziva said.

"Well, it's a little spoiled now," he said, "But, it's probably the closest we're going to get to the happiest place on earth this year."

Ziva cocked her head at him.

"She's been bugging me about going to Disneyland Paris since she found out what it was," Tony said. "I told her that we'd go when you came back. I was gonna see if we could swing it for Easter break, but obviously lockdown got in the way."

"Maybe next year," she said.

"Yeah," he replied. "Shall, we let Tali in on the surprise?"

Ziva nodded, and they walked toward the couch. They sat down on opposite ends of the couch, with Tali in the middle of them. Tali snuggled close to him.

Tony pressed the remote, and the blue menu of Disney plus appeared.

Tali's mouth dropped open.

"Can we watch Frozen?" Tali asked.

Tony and Ziva both shook their heads.

"We've got Frozen," Tony said, as he handed the remote to her. "Why don't we watch something we've never seen before?"

Tali's bottom lip started to wobble, and Tony turned himself slightly so that he could shield himself from her puppy dog eyes.

Ziva carefully took the remote from Tali's hand.

"They have Fantasia, I loved that movie, when I was your age," Ziva uttered. "It has dancing flowers."

Tony could only remember the naked fairies, and being thoroughly confused when he watched it for the first time and confused by the lack of plot. By the end of it, he'd fallen in love with the music. He did not think Tali would have the patience for it, just yet.

"You've seen some of these?" Tony asked. "I thought your parents didn't have a tv."

"You didn't have a tv?" Tali asked, her eyes wide. "When you were a kid?"

Tony could feel his daughters wonder at unlocking parts of her mother. There was so much to unearth. And, they had a whole lifetime together to unravel all the layers.

"We did," Ziva said, her voice getting soft, like it often did when she talked about her family, "But, we did not watch it very often, my mother preferred we read, and my father did not like the noise. But, my Aunt Nettie had a television, and a VHS player. She used to work nights, so she liked to record her shows. She looked after us occasionally, and would put a movie on for us as a treat. There was a woman across the hall from her, who collected videos. Her cousin used to send them to her from the US. She told my mother, it was helping us practice our English."

"What was your favourite Ima?" Tali asked, as she looked at Ziva with big eyes.

"It has been a long time since I have seen any of these,I am not sure which one was my favourite," Ziva whispered. "But, I think I liked this one. It has dogs in it, I think you will like it."

Tali loved dogs. She loved dog soft toys, especially Kelev. She loved passing dogs on the streets. She loved the lady downstairs little Pomeranian.

Maybe, one day they'd get her a dog, and Tali would draw the little rascal into all of her family pictures.

Ziva pressed play on The Lady and the Tramp, and the family snuggled into the couch. Tali snuggled closer to Ziva.

"You know Tali," Tony started, as the opening scenes played. "This film was made before computers existed. All of this is hand drawn."

"You can't draw a whole movie," Tali declared, her eyes wide.

II. Saving Mr Banks

Tony stifled a yawn, and blinked rapidly, trying to stay awake. He had done nothing of substance all day, but was exhausted. This was the third movie he had watched that day, after The Lady in the Tramp, the little family had watched Mulan, which Tali had thoroughly enjoyed. Then, after feeding their little monster, and getting her settled into bed, the older members of the household had settled in for another movie Saving Mr Banks.

Saving Mr Banks had been a compromise, Tony had wanted to finally introduce Ziva to The Avengers, but the nearly three hour run time had made Ziva balk. Ziva had suggested the documentary about elephants narrated by a former member of the British royal family. Then they had come across Saving Mr Banks, which interested Ziva because she had read P.L Travers to learn English, and Tony liked a good period piece.

Except, Tony was bored. The movie was perfect on paper, but just did not hit the spot. There wasn't a lot of action to keep him interested.

"You know when we first met," Tony started as the movie played a scene of P.L Travers childhood in Australia. "Netflix still sent DVDs in the mail."

Those humid summer evenings came back to him easily. Gibbs was on his Sangria sabbatical. Tony was stuck in Gibbs shadow. The meetings started as Ziva wanting to feed Tony, and they have become movie nights. Sometimes, those nights were something else. Sometimes, they were two people trying to soothe themselves with the other. Tony, only understood now, how much of that was Ziva trying to put herself back together, and how broken she had been.

"Netflix sent DVD's in the mail?" Ziva asked, pulling him back into the present.

Her feet were on his lap. His stomach was full from dinner. There were empty wine glasses on the coffee table. It was all so domestic.

"Yeah," he said. "Remember the documentary about the guy who got eaten by a bear that came from Netflix. I liked them, because they didn't charge late fees, and our job didn't exactly keep bankers hours. I mean neither did Blockbuster in the end, but by then it was a losing game."

How long ago, and faraway it all seemed now.

How much time, he and Ziva had wasted.

"No," Ziva whispered. "It did not."

The movie played on, moving from outback Australia to Walt Disney's studios in the early sixties..

"You know there's a documentary of the Sherman brothers on here," Tony said, as he ran his hand up Ziva's calf. "Apparently, they hated each other."

"Maybe we can watch it tomorrow," Ziva said softly, as she reached for his hand. "Let's watch this one now. I am enjoying it."

"Okay," he said.

The movie wore on, and Tony found himself enjoying it in places. He enjoyed watching Ziva watch it, she was engrossed by the movie, her eyes barely left the screen.

Walt Disney and PL Travers were sitting in her living room in London, and then Tony heard muffled sobs from Ziva.

"Ziva," he called out, as he reached out for her. "Are you okay?"

Ziva pulled herself up, and sat with her knees to chest. A protective stance.

"I do not know why this has gotten to me," Ziva said. "It is just when Disney told PL Travers to stop blaming herself for not being able to help her father, and to not let the past dictate the present, I felt that. It is just a movie, it should not have affected me like this."

Tony felt his heart sink.

"What you are feeling Ziva David," he started. "Is the magic of cinema. It puts a name to the things we feel, and lets us feel them in a safe place."

No wonder she had been so engrossed by the movie, it featured a little girl who absolutely adored her less than perfect father. A girl who could not save her father, but tried to reincarnate him in a book.

"Is that why you like it?" she asked.

"I mostly like it for entertainment, or to go somewhere else for two hours," he said, as he reached out for her, and wrapped his arms around her. "But, sometimes I stumble across something that really hits the spot, and makes me think. That's the magic of it all."

Ziva wiped her eyes with the collar of her t-shirt.

"I love you," she whispered.

"I love you too," he said, placing a kiss on her forehead.

The movie reached his end, and PL Travers got her happy ending, and maybe one day Ziva David would get hers too.

II. Intermission

Tony watched as Senior's face pixelated on the screen. It had been a month since they had put Senior on the plane, not knowing when they would see him again. Tony still felt the ache in his stomach, when he had watched his Dad walk through the security doors at Charles De Gaulle airport, with a mask on his face, and a rolling suitcase behind him.

"Junior, can you hear me?" Senior asked, his voice tinny in the computer speakers.

Senior's face appeared back on the screen. Tony noticed that his Dad's hair had gotten long, and he was wearing the closest he had ever come to casual clothes.

"Yeah," Tony said, as he watched Ziva from above the laptop. She was making lunch in the kitchen. "I can hear you."

"So, what did you want to show me?" Senior asked.

Tony smiled, and picked up his laptop. He walked across the living area passing the remnants of the pillow fort from earlier in the day.

"Well, we got that Disney streaming service," Tony said, as he handed the laptop to Tali, who was stretched out on the couch. They'd let Tali dress herself, and she was wearing a tutu under a t-shirt. "And, we found something on there you might like."

Tali waved at Senior on the computer.

"Hi Pop-Pop," Tali said. "Daddy said there's movies from when you were a kid on here."

"Hi Sweetheart," Senior said through the speakers. "I don't know about that, it's been a longtime since I was a kid."

Tony pressed play on Three Little Wolves, and Tali turned the laptop around.

"Can you see it?" Tony asked.

"Yes," Senior said, his voice cracking. "Oh wow, I haven't seen that in nearly eighty years."

Ziva appeared from the kitchen with a tea towel over her shoulder. A smile on her face.

"My brothers and I used to go to see these, at the pictures," Senior said, his voice soft. "It was during the depression, so it was such a treat to go."

Tali let out a laugh, and Senior laughed carried through the speaker.

The film finished, and Tony picked up the laptop, and placed it on Tali's lap. Ziva took her seat on the other side of Tali. Senior waved at Ziva.

"You know Tali, didn't believe us when we told her that all these movies were hand drawn," Tony said.

Senior laughed. His whole head filled the screen.

"It's amazing isn't it," Senior said. "All of this was done before computers."

"Do you wanna watch another one?" Tony asked. "We watched the Pied Piper earlier, Tali liked that."

Senior smiled.

"Yeah," Senior said. "Let's watch another. I haven't got much else to do."

Tony grabbed the remote, and started flicking through the shorts.

"Is The Ugly Duckling on there?" Senior said. "My oldest brother Sal took us to that, it was one of the last ones they played like this. Sal went to war. He was the only one of us who was old enough to be called up, my Mama cried so hard when he left. When he came back, it took him a long time to adjust, I guess he never was like he was before. Anyway, Vinny and I would try and reenact these movies for him. Sometimes we got a laugh from him. It was the sweetest sound."

A tear fell down Ziva's face. She knew that pain.

Tony felt his chest ache. Uncle Sal had been the Uncle found on a golf course talking about mole people. Uncle Sal had been the Uncle, who never came to Thanksgiving.

He had never been quite right.

"You know Dad, we can give you our login details," Tony said, as his Dad looked away from the screen. "If you wanna watch some of these."

Senior shook his head.

Both of his paternal Uncles had died years ago, when Tony was still in high school. Sal in a car accident, when Tony was a sophomore, a car accident that Tony had eventually understood to be something else. A cry for help. Vincenzo, the Uncle with the butcher shop, and the daughter a few years older than Tony, had died of a heart attack in his shop, mere weeks before he was set to retire, having finally accepted that his shop would never compete against the supermarket a block away.

Senior had been the last one left, for almost thirty years now.

"Save 'em," Senior said. "For next time I'm over. It's nice watching them with Tali, it makes me feel like a kid again. Especially, sitting with her."

Tony wondered when they would next see Senior in the flesh. The news said travel might not resume until the new year.

Ziva looked toward the kitchen and got up slowly.

"I have got to check on lunch," Ziva announced. "It is good to see you. See you tomorrow."

"Bye sweetheart," Senior said. "I sure do miss your cooking."

Ziva blew him a kiss and got up from the couch.

Tony flicked through the menu, and found The Ugly Duckling.

"I know it's not the same as being on the couch together," Tony said, as he turned the laptop around, and placed it on one of the more firm cushions. "But, I've gotta help Ziva with lunch, so maybe you two can watch a couple more."

"I'd like that," Senior said.

Tony pressed play, and handed Tali the remote.

He stood behind the couch, and studied the scene. Tali laughed at the movie, and then a few seconds later Senior's laugh came through on the speakers. A warm feeling washed over him.

This was the magic of cinema.

IV. Three Men and A Baby

Tony figited on the couch, as Three Men and A Baby played, like Saving Mr Banks, two nights prior, Three Men and A Baby had been a compromise. Ziva had wanted to watch Sister Act, as their nighttime movie, which Tony had refused to do point blank. He had seen that movie once, and once was enough.

His suggestion had been Wonder Woman, thinking that it might be a good way to introduce Ziva to the Marvel cinematic universe, hoping the fact that Gal Gadot was Israeli would help. It turned out that Wonder Woman was not on Disney plus, just yet.

Then Ziva had found Three Men and A Baby, and practically drooled over Tom Selleck holding a baby. Technically, it was her turn to choose a movie, as he had picked the night before. They had watched a rather lacklustre documentary about the Sherman brothers. So, Tony had let her pressed play.

And, it had been fine, as he watched the three characters lead their bachelor lifestyles in eighties New York.

Then the baby was introduced, and Tom Selleck's character went to the store to buy food and had no idea what to feed her.

"I can't watch this," Tony said, softly, as he moved Ziva's feet from their place on his lap. "I'm going to bed."

Ziva pressed pause, and the screen froze on Tom Selleck looking very harried in the store.

"Technically, it is my turn," Ziva said, her voice a purr. "So, despite your tastes, we are watching this."

It was warmer than previous nights, and she was wearing just his t-shirt. Tony ran his hand up her smooth calves. She had shaved today, when she had a bath, which also doubled a quiet time.

"I know," he said. "And, I won't get between you and Tom Selleck, but I can't watch this. It hits a little too close to home."

He watched as Ziva's face fell.

"Because of how Tali came to you?" Ziva asked. It never took her long to catch on.

Tony nodded.

"I know Tali was a little older. I know you were in danger, and you weren't in a good place," Tony said, as he moved closer. "But, the scene where he doesn't know what to get the baby, that was me. If Jimmy hadn't come back to my place with me, after I got Tali, I wouldn't have known what to do. I'd never even changed a diaper before."

Ziva reached for his face, and placed her hand on his cheek.

"I am sorry," she whispered.

Tali's cries for her mother echoed in his head. Ima! Where Ima! Want Ima!

"I know," he said, "And, I'm not telling you this to make you feel bad. I just can't watch this."

I want her too, baby, he'd said as he laid her down next to him, so they could sleep. Believe me, more than anything.

"I should have thought about the movie before I pressed play," Ziva said. "You said you wanted to watch something else. I did not think."

"I didn't think it would affect me like this," he said. "I didn't want to watch the movie, because I'd seen it before."

Ziva looked deep into his eyes.

"You do not talk about what it was like for you," Ziva whispered. "It must have been so hard to go from being a bachelor to having a two year old in one afternoon."

"I'd do it all over again," he said. "A million times over."

"You cannot say that," Ziva said. "I knew I was putting you in a difficult situation, but I also knew you would keep her safe."

Tony pressed his finger to Ziva's lip.

"A bit of notice would have been nice, I mean most Dad's get nine months to prepare, but I wasn't lying when I said that I would do it all over again," Tony said. "I love her, and I love being her Dad. It doesn't matter how it happened, all that matters is that we're a family now."

Ziva gave him a smile.

"Yes," she said, as she handed him the remote. "That is all that matters. Do you want to pick a movie?"

Tony handed the remote back to her.

"I'm pretty beat," he said,as he raised his arms into the air. "I think I might go to bed."

Ziva pressed the off button on the remote. The screen went blank.

"I think that is a good idea," she said, as she took his hand, and they walked toward the bedroom.

V. Closing Credits

Because of the overlap of Passover and Easter, Tony had not planned to make a big deal of Easter. The benefit of the lockdown was that all the days blended into one, anyway, so Tali would not have even known what she was missing. Especially, as her virtual school wasn't meeting until the following week, because school holidays still happened in lockdown.

Then on Easter Sunday, Ziva presented them with a chocolate bunny each, as they ate their breakfast. She must have gotten them on her weekly shopping trip.

"Where did you hide these?" Tony asked, as he spooned eggs into his mouth. Ziva had also made them a huge breakfast feast.

"I have my places," Ziva said, as she sat down at the table. "Secret places."

"But, we don't have any for you," Tali cried.

"It is okay, Ahuva," Ziva said, as she reached up for Tali's head and touched her messy bed hair. "I am sure, your father will share."

Tony smiled, and the egg fell from his spoon onto his pajamas.

"If you ask nicely," he said, moving the bunny closer to him. So Ziva could not go full ninja, and take it from him. "Very nicely."

"I'll share with you, Ima," Tali declared, as she moved her chocolate bunny toward Ziva. "When we watch the movie."

"Thank you, Motek," Ziva said. "Maybe, I should let you pick the movie."

Over the long weekend, they had introduced Tali to many classic Disney movies. She had loved The Little Mermaid, even if Ziva was a little miffed that Ariel had to lose her voice to get her man. Tali had adored the Lion King, preferring the cartoon to the live action version. The original The Parent Trap, with Hayley Mills, had not gone down well, Tali had asked if she had a secret twin and that's why her Ima was away for so long. She had been rather disappointed to learn she was in fact an only child. Ziva had gotten a faraway look in her eye, when Tony had explained that Tali was an only child, and that some families only had one kid and they were still a family.

"You know exactly what she is going to pick," he hissed at Ziva. Ziva gave him a smirk in response.

Let it Go, played in his head. He heard the damn song in his sleep.

They could torture prisoners with that song. They probably did, somewhere.

"Can we watch Frozen?" Tali asked, her words all running together with excitement. "And then Frozen II. I can wear my special Frozen dress like Elsa,and we can sing the songs. Daddy, knows all the songs."

Tony was pretty sure that Tali's blue Elsa dress was little more than rags, but Tali loved it.

"Looks like we've got a plan for the day," Tony announced, as he picked up his coffee.

It was going to be a good day, in the happiest place on earth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I now know that Wonder Woman is not Marvel so would be on Disney+, but I'll leave the chapter as it is on ffn.


	16. What Is Invisible To The Eye

Ziva woke with a startle, as the door of her and Tony's bedroom opened. The hinge let out an angry squeak, and Ziva looked toward the door, waiting to see the top of her daughter's head, her little curls were messy from sleep.

Tony let out a snore. He was not so easily stirred.

Ziva had accepted that she would always be a light sleeper. She had been trained to view everything as a threat, and that training was muscle memory. She had only been a few years older than Tali, when her father first put a gun in her hands.

"Boker Tov, Tali," Ziva whispered as Tali crept closer to the bed, moving toward Tony's side of the bed.

Tali waved at her from the foot of the bed.

Ziva pulled herself up, and patted the middle of the bed. This was what their mornings involved now, Tali sneaking into their bedroom, wanting cuddles, and falling back to sleep between her parents. Those moments reminded Ziva, of when it was just two of them curled in the big bed in the farmhouse. Tiny Tali starfishing on the bed. Ziva soaking in her daughter's scent, and trying to work out how to tell Tony about the miracle they had made together.

Ziva would miss the lazy mornings, once Tali went back to school.

Tali shook her head, and sunk her teeth into her lips. She moved closer to Tony.

Tali was hiding something. She still went to Tony first, when things were hard or scary.

Occasionally, Tali called out for Daddy and Ima, but always Daddy first.

Trust had to be rebuilt and sturdy foundations were built slowly.

Ziva looked up at the ceiling, at the crack that was growing. As the lockdown was ending, she and Tony had started talking seriously about moving. The apartment was just too small for all of them, and the landlord was slow to fix things.

They wanted a guest room, a garden, and a second bathroom, things Ziva was not sure they would find in Paris.

Tali tugged at Tony's hand, that hung over the bed.

"Daddy's tired," Ziva said, "I can help you, Motek."

Tali shook her head. Ziva felt the sting of rejection. It physically hurt.

"Need Daddy," Tali said.

Ziva wondered if her daughter had wet the bed. Those little accidents had stopped, almost as quickly as they started, but as Ziva was learning healing was not linear.

Ziva sniffed the air, usually when Tali had an accident the smell followed her, but the bedroom smelt no different than it had before Tali entered.

"Daddy," Tali all but shouted in Tony's ear.

Tony woke with a startle. His hand rushing to his ear.

"It's early, Tali," Tony said, releasing his morning breath into the room.

"What do you need, Tali?" Ziva asked, trying to keep her voice soft. "Let Daddy sleep."

Tali moved closer to Tony, and whispered something in Tony's ear.

Ziva craned her neck to try and hear, but all she could make out was 'Ima' and 'special'.

"It's still too early," Tony murmured. His eyes still closed.

"Ima's already awake," Tali said, in a stage whisper.

Tony opened his eyes, and looked at Tali. Then he turned over, and looked at Ziva. He flashed her his thousand-watt grin.

"Morning," he said, before yawning.

Ziva frowned.

"Is everything okay?" Ziva asked, trying to keep her voice calm.

She had thought they were making progress, but it seemed that it was two steps forward and one step back.

He let out another yawn.

"Yeah," he said, as he leaned forward and pressed a kiss on Ziva's forehead. "Go back to sleep. You've been doing all the mornings, it's my turn."

Ziva did not mind, she was an early riser, and she loved the slow mornings of the lockdown. She loved padding around the apartment, and organising breakfast. She loved hearing her daughter recount her strange dreams.

Ziva looked at Tali, who was standing with her hands on her hips, looking like a little old lady.

"Come on, Daddy," Tali said.

"All right," he said. "You're quite the task master, Tali. Go get ready, I'll meet you in your room."

Tali scampered out of the room into the living area.

"She gets that from you," he declared. "That bossiness."

Ziva looked at the open door.

"What is going on?" Ziva asked, anxiety seeping into her voice. She made no attempt to hide it from Tony.

Tony found his bathrobe, and stood at the foot of the bed.

"Nothing bad," he said softly, sitting down on the bed, and reaching for her hand. He squeezed her hand. "Tali wanted to do a surprise for you."

Ziva felt a weight lift off her chest. She looked up at the ceiling, trying to hide the tear that was trying to fall.

"Sorry," she whispered, feeling shame wash through her, "I did not mean to ruin it."

She was always expecting the worst, for the other shoe to drop.

"Tali's been planning it all week," he said. "It'll be ready in thirty minutes, think you can pretend to be asleep for that long?"

Ziva wondered when exactly, Tony and Tali had been able to plan something without her noticing. The three of them had been on top of each other, for nearly two months.

Still, she trusted them. She trusted him.

"I can," she said. "And, I promise to act surprised."

Tony smiled, one that went right up to his eyes.

"Daddy," Tali called. "I need your help."

"You better go," Ziva declared. "It is best not to keep her waiting."

Tony got up from the bed, and walked out of the room. He closed the door as he left.

It was just Ziva and her thoughts, and there was no chance of her going back to sleep.

Tali's voice carried through the gaps in the door. Tony kept calling Tali, chef.

It seemed the surprise involved breakfast, that explained why Tali had asked Ziva to rank her favourite breakfast foods, while they were practicing her spelling words.

Why had she declared her favourite breakfast to be oatmeal? Oatmeal was practical and sensible, but it was not fun.

Ziva looked longingly at the door, wanting to be on the other side. She wanted to be stirring eggs, and supervising Tali as she chopped tomatoes into tiny pieces, with that dummy knife they made her use. Ziva wanted to watch as Tony took long sips of his coffee and slowly came to life.

Ziva had missed so much, so many little moments, that she never wanted to miss a single second.

Ziva pushed at the covers, it was getting warmer, and now that the lockdown was easing they could actually enjoy it. Tony planned to be out all day tomorrow, while Tali was at school.

DiNozzo's shouldn't be caged, Tony had said, as soon as the end was announced.

Ziva scanned the bedroom, noticing the basket of laundry, she had been meaning to sort out. These quiet minutes would give her the chance to do that, but she did not get out of bed.

She stretched out in the bed, moving into the center, and catching a whiff of Tony's lingering scent.

It had been almost five months since she came home. Almost five months of sharing a bed every night, the longest she had ever consecutively shared a bed with someone.

It had been the best five months of her life. The months had not been easy, but they had been healing.

Tali's giggle filtered the room.

"Eww, that's slimy," she squealed.

Ziva smiled.

She loved that child, with everything she had, and miles more than she would ever love herself.

A car horn beeped outside, and Ziva tried to guess how long she had to pretend to be asleep for.

She turned over in bed, and found a pile of books on her nightstand. After multiple nights of broken sleep, she and Tony had decided to go analog in the bedroom. It was too easy to pick up the phone, and bathe in the blue light of the screens.

Tony's phone was plugged in, in the random plug outside of the bathroom, close enough for a late night call to wake them, but far enough away to make scrolling the news an effort.

Tony was falling asleep, almost the minute his head hit the pillow. Ziva was sleeping as well as could be expected.

They had also managed a few late night rolls in the hay.

Ziva picked up the first book on the pile, and cracked the spine. She found her place easily, and squinted at the pages.

She needed reading glasses, and was planning to make an eye doctor appointment now that lockdown was easing. Tony had tried to make fun of her, calling her old, but the jabs washed over her.

Ziva David had never expected to live this long.

Every extra year she got was hard won.

Ziva shifted in the bed, and moved the book closer to her face, ignoring the dull ache in her bad wrist. The story came back to her, it was set in Istanbul, and featured a side of the city Ziva knew too well. It's seedy underbelly.

The heroine, a plucky woman born in the wrong place and time, continued her journey.

The book was no Faulkner, but Ziva knew reading great literature was a muscle. A muscle that had to be built up. Even, if she had down time during her time hunting down Sahar, she did not have the mental energy. She could not wrap herself in words as comfort.

Her new life had plenty of reading time, and plenty of books. There was a foreign language bookshop near her therapist's office, where she had been able to find the odd second hand book in Hebrew. Tony had a box of parenting books stowed under the bed. And, Tali was always looking for somebody to read to her.

That was always Ziva's favourite kind of reading. The two of them squished in Tali's tiny bed, with a book in front of them. Ziva loved watching her daughter follow along mouthing the words. Ziva hoped to share many more books with her daughter.

She had fought for those moments.

The story continued. The heroine became a prostitute, her only choice to be an independent woman in early nineteenth century Turkey, something Ziva knew from the prologue.

Ziva became so engrossed in the story that she mostly blocked out Tony and Tali, except for the odd crash of a pan.

Tony was not as quiet as he thought he was.

Then she heard the jangling of the door knob.

She closed her book and placed it on the pile. Then she slipped under the covers, and closed her eyes.

The door opened, and Ziva let out a fake snore for good measure.

"I told you she went back to sleep," Tony said in a stage whisper. "I'm not sure if I wanna wake her up."

"You already have," Ziva declared, as she opened her eyes, and stretched out her arms. "What have you two been doing?"

Tali jumped up on the bed, and snuggled into Ziva. She snuggled more freely now.

Tony stood at the end of the bed, and mouthed 'good job'. His bathrobe had flour on it.

Ziva pulled Tali close, wanting to take her in. Ziva could smell sugar. She wondered if breakfast included pancakes, the breakfast Ziva had ranked as her third favourite in Tali's survey. Tony had ranked pancakes his second favourite, after bacon and eggs.

"We have a surprise," Tali declared, as she looked at Ziva, with her beautiful big eyes. The eyes that were so much like her fathers. "For you."

"For me?" Ziva asked in an exaggerated voice.

Tali giggled. They were laying so close together that Ziva could feel the giggle rise through her daughter. Tali was getting so big, she would be six soon. Six.

This time six years ago, Ziva was just trying to tread water. Her body was not her own, taken over by a growing Tali. Her mind was slipping deeper into a dark place.

Then she had her daughter, and someone to fight for. Someone who needed her only slightly more than Ziva needed her.

"Yes," Tali said, "Because it's your special day."

Ziva cocked her head, and tried to work out what was so special about the day. She could not recall it being an anniversary of any form. At least not a happy one.

May had too many sad memories. Too many funerals.

"What day is it?" she asked.

"Sunday," Tony snarked.

"I mean why is today so special?" Ziva asked, as she studied her daughter's face.

"It's Ima Day," Tali announced gleefully.

"Why don't we show Ima what we did for her?" Tony announced, as he moved toward the door.

Tali crawled across the bed, and jumped off the bed. Ziva got up, and picked up her bathrobe.

Then Tali presented her with a scarf, the scarf Ziva had placed in Tali's go-bag. Tony had told her that in the early days, Tali would sleep with that scarf next to her in bed.

"What is this for?" Ziva asked.

"To cover your eyes," Tali said. "So you don't see your surprise."

Ziva felt her face redden, and her heart try to escape her chest.

A sandy cell tried to come back to her. Saleem's menacing laugh. She could hear it, but she could not see him. A dirty rag covered her eyes. Her arms were tied to the chair.

"We didn't talk about this," Tony said. "When we were planning."

"I just thought of it," Tali said.

Tony bent down in front of Tali, and took the scarf from her hand.

"I don't think we'll need it," Tony said softly.

Ziva took a deep breath, banishing the sandy cell. Reminding herself that she was home. She was with the two people that mattered most.

"But, then it'll be more of a surprise," Tali said.

"We can ask Ima to close her eyes," Tony said. "But, we don't need the blindfold, Ima doesn't do blindfolds."

The weight returned to Ziva's chest.

Why did she have to expose her daughter to her pain?

Why couldn't she be like other mothers?

Tali looked at Ziva, her head cocked and her mouth open slightly. She was making sense of it all.

Ziva wondered what the next few years would bring, as Tali became more aware of the world. Ziva was already debating how much of her history she would share.

She did not want her pain to become her daughter's.

Tali turned to her father.

"But what if she peeks?" Tali asked in a stage whisper. "You always peek."

Tony chuckled.

"Ima won't peek," Tony said. "I'll make sure of it."

"You promise?" Tali asked, holding out her pinky finger. Tony placed his pinky finger in hers and they twisted.

"Pinky promise," Tony replied.

Tali turned back to Ziva, and flashed Ziva a huge smile.

"Okay Ima," Tali said. "Let's go."

Tony pulled himself up, holding onto the bed.

Tali rushed out the door.

Ziva mouthed a 'thank you', to Tony. He nodded, then he stepped forward, and placed the scarf around Ziva's neck.

The scarf smelt like Tali. It felt like love.

"Remember no peeking," Tali called out from the living area.

"I'll tell you when to close your eyes," he said, as he took her hand.

They walked down the hallway, and then across the living area to the dining area. Ziva's eyes were closed for mere seconds.

"Open your eyes," Tali commanded.

Ziva opened them, and looked at the dining table. Three plates were set out with a small pile of pancakes on each of them. There were smaller bowls filled toppings in the middle of the table. On Ziva's place, was an envelope, and some flowers that had been fashioned out of the scrap paper in Tali's craft box. That explained the secret project, involving paper and scissors, Tali had been doing all week.

"What is all of this?" Ziva asked, as she sat down.

"It's Ima Day," Tali said, as she sat down at her seat. "In America."

Ziva pressed her knife and fork into the pancake and took a bite.

"Not just for your Ima," Tony said, as he poured orange juice into three glasses. "For all the Ima's."

"It is Mother's Day, today?" she asked, as she looked as she leaned across the table to help Tali put some toppings on the pancakes.

"Yeah," he said, as he handed out the glasses. "At least back home. Here it's usually at the end of the month, but it's not until June this year. We didn't want to wait to celebrate."

Tali took a greedy gulp of her drink.

Ziva leaned closer to Tony.

"Is this all your doing?" she asked.

Grand acts were his love language.

Tony shook his head.

"I am merely Tali's servant," Tony said. "This was all here idea."

"How did she know it was Mother's Day?" Ziva asked.

They had not been very good about keeping track of the days.

"Remember when she had a virtual playdate with autopsy gremlins spawn?" he asked.

The playdate conducted over Zoom, was an attempt by both sets of parents to keep the kids occupied. Tali and Tori were almost the same age, both were only children, and both sets of parents thought they needed social interaction.

The kids had been into it for exactly one minute. There was only so much playing you could do when the Atlantic ocean and six hours separated you.

"That lasted exactly five minutes," Ziva said.

"Which was long enough for Tori to show off her Mother's Day card," Tony replied.

It had not been long enough for Tori and Tali to compare notes on what it was like to be away from one's parents. When the stay-at-home orders started, Jimmy and Breena had sent Tori to Breena's mother, knowing that they both had a high chance of exposure. Tori had returned after Easter, even though the virus still raged. Ziva suspected that Jimmy and Breena just missed their baby too much, and were willing to take the risk.

"She was very concerned that she did not have a Mothers Day card for you," Tony announced.

Ziva turned to look at Tali, who had picked up her pancake, and was eating it like pizza.

"Daddy says we can celebrate both mothers' days, this year," Tali announced, syrup dripping from her pancake onto her pink pyjama top. "American Mother's Day, and French mother's day."

"It's nice to celebrate it," Tony said, his voice cracking. "It's been a while."

Ziva reached out for his hand, and squeezed it.

He had been just eight when his mother slipped away from him, and no stepmother had ever stuck around long enough to try and be a maternal influence.

"Do they have Mother's Day in Israel?" Tali asked.

Another apartment, high in the sky, came back to Ziva. Family day cards on the table, because when Ziva was a child the day had become more egalitarian. The early spring flowers in the vase, and all those kisses.

In a few short years, Ziva would be older than her mother ever got to be.

"Sort of," Ziva explained. "It is earlier in the year. Remember how I told you how the Hebrew calendar is different."

The time they had gained in the lockdown, had given Ziva the opportunity to teach Tali about the Hebrew calendar, and how to write Hebrew letters. Tali was so proud when she wrote her name in Hebrew.

"So, we missed it?" Tali asked, a frown blossoming over her face.

"I think two Mother's Days is enough," Tony said. "Even if we are making up for the last few years."

Ziva felt the weight on her chest again. She had missed so much, and there was so much she would never be able to make up for.

"Father's day here is on the same day, as it is in the U.S, is it not? " Ziva asked. "Next month."

"Yeah," Tony said. "It's very close to a certain person's birthday."

Tali would be six in a few short weeks.

Time marched on.

"And, we have to share it with Pop-Pop," Tony continued. "We'll have to organise a special video chat, this year."

"You don't have to share," Tali said, "Because I don't have any Grandmere's. Not like other people do."

Ziva flinched at her daughter's frankness.

"No, you do not," Ziva said. "But, I know my Ima would have loved you."

Then she wondered what her mother would make of her daughter. Rivka David would have cursed in every language she knew, if she had seen the mess that Tony and Ziva had made.

Or maybe, Ziva wouldn't have been so scared, if she had not lost her mother so young. Her safe place.

"Mine would have too," Tony said quickly. "More than the whole wide world."

Tali smiled.

"Really," Tali said, dragging out the word.

"Yeah, my Mom would have loved you," Tony said. "She liked movies, and would have loved showing you movies."

"Like we did with Pop-Pop?" Tali asked. "The movies from when he was a kid."

"Yeah," he said. "She would have loved that."

Ziva felt a tear fall down her face. She wiped it quickly. She wished her daughter could have a big bustling extended family.

She wished her daughter had known her own mother's love.

"When I was a kid, my Mom and I used to get the train into the city," Tony said, "To see movies at this cinema she knew. One day we saw The Little Prince, I'll have to show it to you sometime."

"I've seen that," Tali announced.

"No, it's a different version," Tony explained. "It's not a cartoon."

Tali screwed up her face, she did not love live action films.

"Maybe, we can watch it later," Ziva said.

"But, it's Ima's Day," Tali said. "You get to pick the movie."

Ziva remembered the pumpkin walled breakroom at NCIS, and Tony's photos. The photo of his mother in front of the movie theatre. The promise that they would let each other in. If only, they had just kept letting each other in, instead of playing a game of two steps forward one step back.

"And, I pick that movie," Ziva said. "The Little Prince was one of my favourite books when I was your age."

"It's a book," Tali shrieked.

"Yeah," Tony said. "A book that got made into a movie."

Tali ate the last of her pancakes.

"Have we read the book?" Tali asked.

Ziva looked at Tony.

"Not yet," he said. "We'll have to get our hands on a copy."

Ziva thought of the bookshop near her therapist's office. Tali was probably a little young to take in the deeper message in the story, but would enjoy cuddling up with her parents and reading.

Tali touched the envelope on the table.

"You haven't opened the card," Tali said.

"I was hungry," Ziva replied, as she studied her daughter's handwriting. They had been practicing her letters during the endless days of lockdown. Ziva could see the improvement.

Ziva opened the envelope and slowly plucked out a piece of paper that had been fashioned into a card. The picture had a three person stick figure family and lots of little hearts dotted around them.

"This is beautiful," Ziva said.

Tali smiled.

"We couldn't go to the store," Tali said. "So I had to draw it."

"This is better than anything in the store," Ziva said. "It's unique."

"That's why I had to make the flowers," Tali said, wearing a frown.

"Now, I get to keep them forever," Ziva declared. "They are beautiful."

Ziva opened the card, and a slip of paper fell out. It looked like a ticket. She picked it up, and studied it. The piece of paper had three bubble letters that had been coloured in.

"It's an I.O.U," Tali announced, "Because, we can't go to the store and get you a present. It was Daddy's idea."

"Really?" Ziva said, as her eyes moved to the message in the card, the words written in different coloured pencils.

To Ima,

Happy Mother's Day.

I love you lots.

Love Tali David DiNozzo.

Ziva smiled, at her daughter's words. She had added the 'David' to her name when she had learnt that Ziva did not have the same last name as her and Tony. Adding Ziva's last name made it more fair, in Tali's eyes. And, Tali was obsessed with fairness.

Ziva had been so careful to make sure that there was no trace of her name in Tali's, when she sent her to Tony, that it was so strange to hear her last name between Tali's names.

"Yeah," Tony said. "I do have the occasional good idea."

"Thank you," Ziva said. "I do not know what I will use it for."

"You could get a book," Tali declared. "You have lots of books. That's what we would have got you, if we could."

Ziva thought again of the book store near her therapist's office, and the bright kids section with the mural of a jungle on the wall. She could so easily imagine Tali there, flicking through the picture books, and Tony lingering close by at the magazines. It could be a family adventure. Ziva could not wait to have those again.

Books had been something Ziva had shared with her own mother, and something she would share with her daughter.

"Ima can use it for whatever he wants," Tony said from his end of the table. "Hopefully, she'll spend it somewhere fun."

"I know just the place," Ziva declared.


	17. Ages of Innocence

Tony peaked into Tali's bedroom, and found his daughter splayed over her bed like a starfish. Her soft toys sitting at the end of the bed watching her sleep. The blackout curtains were almost to the windowsill, so just a tiny strip of light saved the room for complete darkness. Tali let out a tiny baby snore, and closed the door.

"Night, baby," he whispered.

Paris was slowly moving out of lockdown, and bit by bit they were adding more normalcy to their lives. Tali was back at school, for shorter days and in even smaller classes. More shops were opening, though some of the smaller cafes would never open again. The summer holiday Tony had started thinking about before lockdown would be a little closer to home than he liked, but it was still going ahead.

Still, they had no idea when they would be able to go to the states to Senior, or when he might be able to come to them. Senior felt so far away.

Tony walked past Tali's door, out of the narrow hallway, and into the living area. He stood behind the couch, and looked for signs of what Ziva had done, after Tony had taken Abby's facetime call into the bedroom. He expected to see a book or maybe the menu of one of the streaming services they subscribed to, instead the living area was spotless. There were no water rings on the coffee table, no pile of clean laundry on the armchair that was really too big for the space, and all of Tali's toys were put away from the night.

Ziva was scrubbing the kitchen, with white earbud hanging out of her ears.

Tony walked across the living area, and to the kitchen, and was overcome by a smell of lemon cleaner. The tiny window over the sink was open, and a slight breeze blew in, softening the smell. The kitchen tiles were as close to white as they were ever going to be. The kitchen and the bathroom in the apartment were dated to say the least, but Tony had been conned into paying a ridiculous amount of Euros for the apartment because of its location. That and wanting to get him and Tali settled after all those months of hotel rooms and airports.

They were talking about moving to somewhere bigger. Somewhere where Tali's bedroom was not the size of a closet. Somewhere with a patch of grass, or at least a balcony which was big enough to eat meals on. Tony also harboured dreams of a second bathroom, and a guest bedroom, but those would be impossible to find in their price range.

Tony stood on the threshold of the kitchen. Fast paced Hebrew bled out of Ziva's earbuds, and Tony noticed that only one of Ziva's earbuds was in. She never wore earbuds in public, even when she was alone. She could not have one of her senses dulled. These were the scars created by their years apart.

"It's late," he said, leaning on the kitchen counter. "Let me help you."

It did not feel late. They were weeks away from the summer solstice and the sun did not set until hours after Tali's bedtime. When Tali was younger, those bedtimes proved to be the hardest, as Tali could not fathom going to sleep when the sun was still in the sky, no matter how tired she was. If they were still in lockdown, and without the routine of getting up for school, they might have let her extend her bedtime a little in tandem with the sun.

"I am nearly done," Ziva said, as she reached into the pocket of her exercise pants and pulled out her phone. She pressed pause on her music, and stuffed the phone and earbuds back into the pocket. "It is your turn to pick what we watch."

They were watching more television shows these days, as the length of time the sun was in the sky tricked them too. By the time they sat down on the couch, they did not have enough time to commit to a two hour movie. They mostly watched comedies, as they had both agreed they had more than enough drama in their lives. Ziva had a soft spot for outrageous British comedies.

"I should be doing this," he said, "You cooked. We share chores evenly."

Ziva had made moussaka, as eggplant had been included in the veggie box they subscribed to. Tony had loved the meal, but Tali had been less than convinced, and picked out all the eggplant, and screwed up her nose. She had wolfed down the minced lamb, dice tomato and cheese mixture, not noticing all the vegetables that were hidden in tomato sauce.

"I like cooking," she said. "I do not see it as a chore."

He knew this, and had known this for a long time. Long before they shared a daughter, an apartment and a chore chart. For Ziva cooking was how she showed love. Cooking was how her mother showed her love. Cooking was a communion with her long-dead mother. One day, she hoped to share the secrets and spices with Tali.

Tony liked cooking too, but not everyday. When Ziva had come back, he had been more than happy to let Ziva be head chef, as long as he got to be in charge when they had their weekly pizza party.

"But, cleaning the kitchen is definitely a chore," he said. "Nobody cleans for fun."

Ziva squeezed out the sponge into the sink. Her hands were prune like from dipping them into the water. Her curls were coming out of a ponytail holder.

A lifetime ago they could have been at a crime scene, bickering over their lunch order, while they made sense of someone's final moments.

Had they really been so desensitized to death?

"No," Ziva said. "But cleaning the kitchen is something that must be done. So I did it."

"I would have done it," Tony said, as he felt his voice rise.

Ziva frowned.

"I am not trying to start a fight," Ziva declared, trying to draw a line in the sand. "I know you would have done it. It's just you were busy, and so I did it."

They subscribed to three streaming services, and they had more books than bookshelves, but Ziva had chosen to clean the kitchen. Not just a quick after dinner clean, while the 'economical' dishwasher hummed, but a deep clean. She had scrubbed the grout between the tiles.

"Is this about me talking to Abby?" he asked.

Though Abby and Ziva loved each other in that almost-family way that had developed between the team, they were still finding their feet now. Abby had a lot of questions about the choices that Ziva had made, and those questions were hard to answer over skype. Tony had hoped that Abby's planned visit over Easter would have helped the two of them bond, but the lockdown had gotten in the way of that.

The two of them just needed to hug it out.

Ziva and Abby always managed a few minutes of conversation, at the start of the planned Skype chats, but there were a lot of awkward pauses. Then Ziva would step away from the conversation, leaving Tony and Abby to it.

"No," Ziva said, with her eyes crinkled. Her confused look was the same as Tali's. "Why are you so convinced that I am upset with you?"

"You cleaned the kitchen," Tony said, trying to keep his voice neutral.

"Because you were busy," Ziva said. "And, it needed doing. I figured if I did it, then when you were done, we could watch some television. Or perhaps go to bed early."

It struck Tony then, that if their relationship on a normal timeline, then these routines would be well established. They would not be trying to work it all out while their almost six year old slept.

"So this isn't going to turn into a thing, where we fight about something else and you bring up that you do all the cleaning?" Tony asked.

They'd been watching too many sitcoms. Too many shows with stressed out Moms and lazy Dads.

Ziva raised her eyebrows.

"We do not really fight," Ziva said, the frown deep on her face. "And, I do not think that we would fight over that."

They had much bigger fish to fry.

"What has gotten into you?" Ziva asked.

Tony looked down at his bare feet, noting how pale they were. They did not wear shoes in the house, and it was too hot for socks.

"Do you remember that story Tali told us the other day, the one about the boy in her class who said cleaning was for girls?" Tony asked.

Ziva pursed her lips, and then her eyes flashed with recognition.

"Yes," Ziva said delicately. "He is from a very traditional country, that would have been part of what made him think like that."

Tali's school, chosen mostly because lessons were conducted in English, but also because its high profile parents meant a high level of security, was a strange pond for Tali to be finding her feet. Tony was starting to wonder what she was learning outside of the classroom. Most of the children came from far flung countries, so Tali was learning about a lot of different cultures through food and dance. The school also had high tuition fees, so many of Tali's classmates had housekeepers and nannies. Tali was protected from a lot of the horrors of the world, but Tony did not want her to think that the opulent wealth that many of her classmates came from was normal.

Maybe, when they looked for a bigger home, they might look into her education. They might find her somewhere more normal.

"Yeah," Tony said. "Anyway, while she was telling us what her teacher said, and how cleaning is everyone's job, I tried to remember the last time I cleaned the bathroom or scrubbed the kitchen. I think I've cleaned the bathroom once since you came home, and the kitchen a handful of times."

"Tali told us that story on Monday," Ziva said. "Have you been keeping the score all week?"

"Keeping score," he corrected. "And, not really, but I've been noticing what housework I'm not doing more. It's not really fair, is it?"

Ziva frowned.

"Tony, I am not one of those women who insists that because I unload the dishwasher that you must reload it," she said. "Honestly, I am so used to doing things on my own, that I do not think about who owns which chores."

If their relationship had been one that followed the more traditional timeline, this might have been the sit down discussion they had with highlighters and a chart, only to fall into a more natural rhythm. Instead, they were thrust into a sort of instant-family, having to make all the decisions all at once.

"Yeah me too," he said. "It's really nice having someone to share the boring stuff with. You know we never got to laundry zero until you moved in, even though we added a whole extra person."

"Laundry zero?" Ziva asked.

"You know when all the laundry is done and put away," he said. "You've seen how much laundry our daughter produces."

Ziva let out a half-chuckle.

"She has been like that since day one," Ziva declared, before looking away from him.

Tony felt that ache in his chest, an ache for his absence in Tali's early days, but also for Ziva's headspace during that time.

Tony reached out for Ziva's hand, and squeezed it.

"You know I read a lot of parenting books, right?" he asked.

He had never studied for anything as much as he had parenthood. In the early days, it was frantic google searches and blog reading. Once he got Tali into a routine, it was all about the brightly colored self-help books, and a lot of audiobooks listened to while he did the laundry. All about raising happy children, or certain parent methodologies.

Tony's parenting philosophy was getting through the day.

"Yes," Ziva said. "I have seen the stash under the bed."

There was a time where the box under the bed had dirty magazines and a pair of fluffy handcuffs.

"Okay, so most of those books are written by women," he said. "I mean there were a few good ones written by Dads, and let me tell you The Paragons of Perfect Parenting known as Jimmy and Breena Palmer, sent me every single one they could find. Anyway, a lot of those have chapters or at least a section about splitting housework evenly with your spouse, and how it's important that your kids see both parents do all the jobs, so they don't get a complex about gender roles and cleaning."

Ziva opened and closed her mouth. She screwed up her nose, and looked around.

"Wow," she finally said. "You have really thought about this."

Perhaps too much.

"Yeah," Tony said. "I mean it seems like a lot of parenting is modelling behaviour, and making sure the kid doesn't manage to kill themselves when you turn your back for literally one second."

Ziva laughed. A full body laugh that rose through her, and made her curls bounce.

"If you would like to clean the bathroom, so that Tali does not get a complex about whose job it is to clean," Ziva declared. "You are more than welcome. Though I must say as someone who actually grew up female, I never thought that cleaning was a gender specific activity. It just needs to be done."

"I always kinda figured your Mom did most of the chores," he said, "I can't really picture your Dad doing the dishes."

"No, my father was not very domestic," Ziva admitted, with a smirk. "And, yes my mother did most of the chores, but that was because she was the one who was there to do them. We also had a series of housekeepers who did the deep cleaning."

"We could get one of those," Tony said.

"Neither of us are working right now," Ziva replied, wearing a slight smile. "It would be rather wasteful, no?"

"The news keeps saying that France's economy is down the toilet," Tonys said. "We'd be creating a job."

"That would involve a lot of paperwork, and I think you dislike that even more than cleaning," Ziva replied.

Their expatriate life involved so much goddamn paperwork.

"Okay, we'll do it ourselves," he said, "But we'll split it evenly."

"I do prefer to do all the chores when Tali is at school or asleep," Ziva said softly. "I want to give her all of my attention when she is around."

Tony knew what Ziva was trying to say. She had missed out on so much, and was not going to waste another minute she could have with her daughter by cleaning.

"Okay," he said. "But we'll have a chore chart, and we'll split the chores evenly. Maybe you could do the bathroom, seeing as that is quite an acrobatic activity, and if I get down on my knees I might not come back up.

"Yes, I am quite aware that you are not as flexible as you used to be," Ziva said, with a smirk.

"That has greatly wounded me," he declared. "But, I forgive you, and I will make it my job to clean the kitchen after dinner. That means you won't miss out on any Tali time."

"You know when I was Tali's age, I had chores," Ziva said, after a few quiet seconds.

"I'm pretty sure they've improved the child labour laws since the eighties," Tony replied.

"Just little ones," Ziva continued. "Picking up my toys, and laying the table for dinner. My mother was busy. She had two children, a job, and it is like I said my father was not the most domestic, not that he was home often in those days."

Tali picked up her toys, when she was asked. Eventually.

But Tali 'the Tornado' DiNozzo, had little concept of the mess she created, whenever she walked through the room, and just how much of her parents' day was devoted to cleaning up after her.

When it had been just him and Tali, it had been easier to just let Tali make her mess and clean up after her. His evenings had been spent folding laundry and scrubbing paint off the dining table. Tali had been very into painting the winter after her fourth birthday.

"We probably should get Tali to do a little more around the house," he said, as he looked across to her bedroom. "I tried to find age appropriate chores and get her to do them, but there was only so much I could do. I'm still a little messed up from potty training."

Ziva grabbed in hand.

"I know you did your best when it was just you," Ziva said, her voice soft. "But, now there are two of us, so we do this together. We can have a sticker chart, she likes stickers."

"You know the tag-team only works if she doesn't play us off each other," Tony said.

In their early days as a trio, Tali had worked very hard at trying to play her parents off against each other.

But, Ima said my bedtime was later.

But, Daddy said we could have ice cream on Wednesday and Friday.

As Tali became more secure in her two parent reality, the games had stopped, mostly because Tali had realized that her parents actually spoke to each other.

"Well we are on the same page," Ziva said. "And, she will thank us when she is older. Remember, when Tim told us about his college roommate who did not know how to do his laundry. I do not want that for Tali."

"You know I did not learn how to do laundry until I was in military school," Tony admitted. "And, I learnt on industrial machines."

"That makes sense," Ziva said. "You were in boarding school from such an early age."

"Yeah," he said. "And, we always had a maid wherever my Dad called home after my mother died. I nearly destroyed a lot of laundry, when I got assigned the laundry room as my job. It could have been a big mess."

Ziva pressed her hands onto Tony's face, and looked into his eyes.

"I knew how to do it, but never had to do it on my own until my mother died," Ziva said, her voice getting that distant quality it often did when she spoke of her past. "I did destroy a whole load of mine and my sister's laundry, including what was my sisters favourite t-shirt. She told me she would never forgive me, but before we went to sleep that night she had forgiven me."

Tony swallowed thickly. He had noticed that when Ziva spoke of her sister Tali, it was always as 'my sister', as if by giving the name to her daughter, it could only be associated with Tali the younger. The Tali that lived.

He wondered too, what it would been like to have a sibling. Someone who had been there for his childhood too. He knew, by virtue of knowing Ziva, that having a sibling in childhood did not necessarily mean having a sibling in adulthood. He also knew from McGee, that having a sibling did not necessarily mean they experienced the same childhood, Sarah McGee had gotten nothing but love from her father.

When Tony had allowed himself to imagine having a family, something he always denied he wanted, he had always imagined children plural. Usually two, and usually a boy and a girl, because that was the ideal family in cereal commercials and sitcoms. He had always imagined, himself coming home to a wife and two children who never knew loneliness. These imaginary kids could hate each other, and bicker all the time, but would never be alone.

Maybe, if Ziva had been able to come home earlier, they would have given Tali a sibling. Maybe, if they had followed the more traditional timeline, they'd have their big house, two kids, and a dog.

"Are you okay?" Ziva asked.

"Yeah," Tony said. "It's just all this talk about Tali getting older. I can't believe she's gonna be six in a few weeks."

"Neither can I," Ziva said. "I would like to say it feels like yesterday that I held her for the first time, but I felt every day of our years apart."

It felt like yesterday that he walked into Vances office, and was introduced to his nearly two year old daughter.

"I was six, when my Mom first got sick," he announced. The words shocked him as he spoke them, he had not meant to bring that up. "It was still pretty early, and I think the doctors thought they could do more for her, so all I really knew was that my Mom was tired, and we didn't go into the city for movies as often."

Ziva pressed her nose into his.

"If I'm like this when she turns six, I'm gonna be a mess when she turns eight," he said. His face felt warm.

He was eight when he was put into a too-big suit, and walked into a church packed with people he did not recognise. He was eight, when he saw his Dad pour his flask into his coffee at the funeral. He was eight, when he overheard his Uncle Vinny suggest that he and Aunt Clarice take little Tony home with them, just for a few days.

"I think eight will be hard," Ziva whispered.

Kelly Gibbs had been eight years old, when the car she was in crashed. Tony and Gibbs were not as close as they had once been, but the fact that Kelly Gibbs had been eight when she died was inescapable.

Eight felt so impossibly young.

"And, I do not imagine sixteen will be easy for me," Ziva declared.

Tali, the older, was just sixteen when she was caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. If that had not happened, their daughter would have a different name.

If she even existed, because maybe in a world where Tali the older lived, Tony and Ziva would have never met.

"Six," Tony said, bringing them back down to the present. "She's gonna be six in a few weeks."

In the previous week the fourth anniversary of the day Tony met his daughter for the first time had passed. His daughter who was already walking and talking, and missing her mother. The anniversary had passed without fanfare, but he could see the struggle in Ziva. He had been extra kind that day.

"Six," Ziva repeated. "We are parents of an almost six year old."

It would be his fourth birthday with her.

Tony remembered Tali's second birthday, celebrated in a hotel room in Israel, where Tony was still trying to find answers. Tali was still getting used to him, and still cried out for her mother when it all became too much. In Israel, cafe's of women would turn their heads when they heard Tali cry out for Ima. Tony had tried to make the day special, buying Tali another toy, and managing to find a small cake. When Tali had tried to blow out the candle, Tony had wished for Ziva to be there for the next one. He did not care how, or what they had to work through.

He needed Ziva back.

Tali's third birthday had been a quiet one. Senior had made sure to visit in time for the day, and had brought a whole bag of presents. They had a picnic in the park, so that Tali could get as messy as she liked, and could play with other kids even if she just met them that day. Tony had held Tali on his lap, as Senior lit the candle. He had helped Tali blow the candle, and wished the same wish as the year before.

For Ziva to come home.

Tali's fourth birthday had been busier. She had friends from her preschool class by then, and Tony had spent too much money for a woman dressed like a fairy to join them for another picnic. He had heard one of Mothers mutter how refreshing it was to go to a simple party, rather than the one upmanship that plagued the other parties. On the walk home, after Tony had tipped the fairy woman generously because one of the kids had thrown up on her, Tali had asked him if it was true that if you revealed your birthday wish it did not come true. Tony had answered in the affirmative, because it was too much to explain superstitions to a four year old, and Tali had announced she would not tell him her wish, because she really wanted her wish to come true. Even though she never said a thing, he knew exactly what her wish was.

For Ziva to come home.

Tali's fifth birthday had not involved a party, and Tali had not seemed to mind. She had been invited to every party in her class, and both father and daughter were getting party fatigue as the school year wound down. Instead, he had driven her out to the country, taking her to see a real life farm. They stayed in an air bnb with peeling paint, and that was cold even in late June. Tony had presented Tali with a cake with her name on it, which had impressed her much more than the presents she got that year. Tali had watched as the flame on the candle flickered, and had asked whether she could wish for the same thing as the year before. Tony had explained that of course she could, then he had sucked in a breath as she blew out the candles.

He knew what she wished for, but did not know if it would ever come true. Hope was currency he was running out of.

This year would be another year without a party, because of the social distancing, but Tali would not care, her wish had finally come true. This year her wish would be for something more mundane, perhaps for a puppy or a trip to Euro Disney.

Maybe one of those would come true. Maybe they wouldn't. But, it would not hurt as much as it did in previous years when the birthday wish did not come true.

"This is not where I imagined we'd be, when I first met you," Tony said, as the squadroom came back to him. He remembered how it seemed to rain endlessly in the days after Kate's death. He remembered Ziva looking like she had stepped out of desert storm. He remembered when Abby had found Ziva's lilac scarf, after she left, and how the scarf stayed on McGee's desk for the longest time. "Which will be fifteen years ago, as of last week."

Tony tried to imagine what his younger self would have made of all of this. Of the period as a single Dad. Of all the mess they had made. Of all the love. The Tony DiNozzo of those days thought he knew everything, but he really had no idea.

"No, this is not where I imagined we would be," Ziva declared. "It is so much better."


	18. Without Conditions

Tony reached his hand up to his forehead and wiped some sweat from his brow. Paris in mid June was sweltering. Paris in June made him miss the United States, not because he had found memories of any particular June day, but because he missed air conditioning.

He enjoyed his life in Paris, especially now that Ziva was back, but he would give five years of his life, just to have an apartment with air conditioning. If they were set to have another sweltering summer like the year before, Tony would give seven years of his life for air conditioning.

He wiped his brow again, and then looked down at the scrap of pink wrapping paper in front of him. The corners were curling up, and the silver glitter that decorated the wrapping paper was all over the rug. Tony looked at the gift he had to wrap, a mini chemistry set, sent by Abby, and wondered if the paper he had cut was big enough.

Tony heard the front door of the apartment open.

"Tony," Ziva called. "Are you home?"

He heard her move through their tiny home. He could see her pulling off her sandals, huge black things with an orthopedic heel, and hang up her bag on her Tali-assigned hook. The wall behind the front door resembled a kindergarten cloakroom on a good day, and a Church basement jumble sale on a bad day.

"In here," he shouted. "It's a sweat box."

Their beloved offspring was at school, so Tony could have wrapped her birthday presents in their living room, and avoided sitting on the floor without back support, but it felt like he was playing with fire if it did that. It would be too easy for their little investigator to find a scrap of wrapping paper or a price tag near the fruit bowl.

"Are you hungry?" Ziva called out.

He was hot. His back ached from sitting on the floor. He was tired from another night of sleep broken by the heat. He was time-stressed, because he had to finish wrapping the gifts and get them to the hiding place, before they went to pick Tali up from school.

"Not really," he said. "I'm thirsty, can you bring me some water please?"

Tony then took the gift from Abby, and put in the center of the paper. It was definitely too small. Tony reached under the bed, and pulled out another roll of wrapping paper. It was a shimmery silver colour, left over from their Christmas stash, but not obviously-Christmasy. It would have to do.

It had not helped that Senior had ordered for half a toy store to be delivered to Tony's parcel locker, to make up for the absence the global pandemic had caused.

Ziva appeared in the doorway, her hair was down, and she was wearing a tan. She always looked so good with a tan. Summer looked good on her.

"Hi," Tony said, as he looked up at her.

She was holding a tray, which he could see contained two glasses of water and some fruit.

"Hello," she said, "I did not believe you when you said you were not hungry."

He looked up at her. At her bare shoulders, at the new top she was wearing, one with a low neckline that he rather appreciated.

"I can eat," he said, with a shrug.

A piece of fruit was hardly a meal.

She stepped further into the room, and looked at their bed that was covered in pink wrapped objects.

The glitter was probably all over their bedding too.

"You have been busy," Ziva said, as she handed the tray to him.

He scooted back, and placed the tray on the too small wrapping paper. One of the glasses was filled with ice, and droplets of condensation dripped onto the tray. Tony knew that glass was meant for him, and his what Ziva called 'ridiculous American need for ice'. On the plate were some apricots from their recent visit to the farmers market, that had been their weekend adventure. They had brought berries too, but those were long gone. Tali had eaten so many berries that her fingers were purple and her stomach ached.

Ziva sat down, and leaned her back on the wardrobe door. They were all aging knees and mess, it looked ridiculous.

"Yeah," he said. "The stuff Dad sent arrived, so I thought I better get started."

Tony took a long swig of his water. The water was so cold it made his teeth ache.

"I thought we were going to do this together," Ziva said, as she picked up her glass of water, one that had a more reasonable number of ice cubes in it. "Like we did at Christmas."

Tony looked at her, as he remembered a similar scene from almost six months beforehand. The two of them sitting on the floor, Ziva swimming in one of his thick jumpers, because she had only brought enough clothes for a few days. Hot chocolates steaming on the tray. It had all been so new then, but also achingly familiar like long nights spent in the squadroom going through files. Ziva had exclaimed every present that Tony had brought, and asked if Tali liked each thing.

Because as much as those early months were about Tali getting to know her mother, they were also about Ziva getting to know her daughter.

"I know," he said. "It just seemed silly to take the presents to the hiding place, then bring them out to wrap them, and take them back."

Ziva took a sip of her water.

"With that hiding place being the trunk of the car," Ziva declared.

Tony's mouth dropped open in surprise.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said.

Ziva picked up one of the apricots and sunk her teeth into it.

"I know you hide things in the car," Ziva said, with a smirk on her face. "There is nowhere else it could be. We do not have anywhere big enough to hide the presents, you do not have the memory to hide presents in many different places, and there is no debit for a storage place on our bank account."

He felt a weird surge of pride when he heard her say our bank account.

Our bank account.

Our apartment.

Our daughter.

They had built a life together.

"All right little Miss Sherlock Holmes," he said, holding up his hands in defence. "You caught me."

She smiled, a full bodied smile that went all the way to her eyes, and made them crinkle.

"You know you're quite good at this deductive reasoning, maybe you should become a cop," he declared.

Ziva laughed. Her curls bounced.

"Maybe, but I quite like our life now," she said, "It is peaceful."

And it was.

Their life consisted of fresh flowers on the dining room table, piles of books on the nightstand, and three pairs of matching socks with cartoon Eiffel towers that Tony had found at a random souvenir shop during one of his post-lockdown walks.

They had pizza nights, film festivals where they watched both Frozen movies back-to-back, and lazy Sunday breakfasts, where Tali made her objections known about salad for breakfast, no matter how many times Ziva told her that is how breakfast is done in Israel.

"That it is," he said, as he picked up the apricot meant for him, and sunk his teeth into it. The juices dribbled down his face. "How was today?"

Ziva looked toward the window, and took a deep breath in, and then out.

As the lockdown eased Ziva had resumed her twice-a-week therapy schedule, with one session in the office and one done remotely. Ziva preferred the in-person sessions.

"It was hard," Ziva said, as she came back to look at him, "But, it was good. I feel like I made some progress."

"Good," he said, his mouth still full of juicy apricot flesh. "That's really good."

Ziva nodded.

"We have been talking about reducing the sessions down to once a week," Ziva said, as she held her water glass with both hands. "It worked during lockdown, and things have been progressing well. I have been in a good place. With Tali's school finishing soon, and those long weekends you want to do, it is a good time."

Tony wanted to get his family out of Paris for the summer. He had visions of Tali running around in lush green fields, and dipping her toes in the always cold Atlantic ocean. He wanted to see Ziva relax like she always seemed to in nature, and maybe catch a glimpse of her in a bathing suit. He wanted to take his family on a big ol' fashioned road trip, even though it was almost always cheaper to get the train, and explore more the country they now called home.

"Yeah," he said. "I think we're gonna have a really good summer."

Ziva took a sip of water, and then smiled back at him.

"You feeling okay?" he asked, "Dropping back to one session."

Ziva nodded.

"The two sessions a week were only supposed to be for a short while," she declared. "I know it may not seem like much on the outside, but I have done a lot of work. I feel better."

She was wrong there, Tony could see the change in her. He could see that she had become more comfortable, and more quick to laugh. She smiled more.

The haunted woman he had left behind in Israel was no more.

Sometimes, when they were all laughing, or FaceTiming the McFamily, he even got glimpses of the woman she was when they first met. She had seemed so free in those early days.

"I have made peace with the fact that I am not going to be the person I was before all these things happened," Ziva said. "And, that sometimes things are going to be harder. Like my physical health I have to work at my mental health, and be vigilant."

They were both vigilant.

Ziva needed to move her body, and some time to herself each day. She usually combined these needs by going on a long walk or a run by herself. At first Tali had gotten upset, when Ziva had not wanted to take Tali with her on her walks, or during lockdown when Ziva had shut herself in the master bedroom to have some quiet time. Now, Tali was used to her mothers need for quiet time.

"I'm proud of you," he said. "For working so hard with it all."

He expected her to brush it all off like she always did.

"Me too," she said, as she looked down at her lap. "I just wish that I had known to do this earlier. There are things I should have tended to years ago. I have wasted so much time."

They had wasted so much time. They had been such wusses.

"We both have," he said reaching for her hand. "But, we have right now and many more years together. Touch wood."

He tapped the wooden bed frame. Hoping the bed, brought from a Swedish flat-pack furniture, had enough wood in it to count.

She looked at him with a watery smile.

God, he loved her. So much that it physically hurt.

"I will clear this away," Ziva said, pointing to the tray, with its empty glasses and apricot stones. "Then we can finish wrapping the presents."

Ziva reached out for the bed post, and pulled herself up.

"We've only got one left," he said.

Tony picked up the tray ready to hand it to her.

"Actually," she said, as she reached out to grab the tray from him. "I brought some things."

He looked up at their bed, at the pile of presents. He had not counted the exact number of presents that had been brought or sent, but it felt like a lot. It felt like more than there had been at Christmas, and more than previous years. He knew Tali was counting.

Tali had already got the only thing she had ever wished for, on the weekend before Christmas when Ziva knocked on their door.

Ziva moved out of the room, and appeared a few seconds later holding a canvas shopping bag, the same one that had been used during their visit to the farmers market the previous weekend. A book was sticking out of the top, and Tony could see some sort of stuffed toy had been stuffed in the bag.

"I went past that bookstore," Ziva announced as she handed him the bag. "You know the one with the mural in the children's section."

Ziva had taken all three of them to the foreign language bookstore that was near her therapist office, on one of their weekend adventures. The plan had been for Ziva to finally 'spend' the I.O.U voucher that Tali had made her for Mother's Day. Each member of the family had walked out of the store with something. Ziva with a copy of The Little Prince, and a novel by the Turkish author she liked. Tony with a book about movies in the nineties, and a sports biography. Tali had walked away with half a dozen new picture books, and a soft toy.

"I know she has a lot of gifts," Ziva continued. "But, a few more cannot hurt."

Tony peaked in the bag, and found it contained two books, a box of expensive coloured pencils and a soft toy that looked like a dragon.

"You know I always thought it'd be me," he said, his voice soft.

Ziva looked at him, her head cocked in confusion.

"That I would be the permissive one," he added.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"I always thought I'd be the type of Dad who brought too many gifts for his kid, and said yes every time they asked for treats. That's what I thought Dads did," Tony said. "Instead, I am the one that enforces bedtimes and negotiates her eating her vegetables."

"Do you think I am too permissive?" she asked.

He shook his head.

Ziva very rarely said no to Tali.

"No," he said. "You and her are still finding your rhythm. I get that."

"I make her eat her vegetables," she said, as she sat down in front of him. "And, we are a united front of bedtimes."

She was defending herself.

"That's because us DiNozzo's need our beauty sleep," he said. "None of what I'm saying is a criticism of you. I'm just realising I am not the fun parent I thought I was gonna be."

"You are a fun parent," Ziva said, reaching out for him."You do all sorts of fun things with her. You have your movie nights, and concerts. You play dress up. She loves you."

"I know," he said, as he ran his hands over the soft toy. "It's just I'm not the type of parent I thought I would be."

"It is hard to be a fun parent, when you are the only parent," Ziva said.

Tony felt a pang in his gut. A flare up of anger.

Nobody made Ziva do those first two years alone. He would have been there in a heartbeat, before the pee even dried on the pregnancy test.

"And, in those sitcoms we were watching, the mother was always stressed out, and the Dad was fun because he did nothing else," Ziva said. "You said, you did not want to live like that."

Tony nodded, remembering their conversation about chores.

"Do you think I'm too hard on her?" he asked. "I've been pretty militant about her cleaning up after herself."

Ziva let out a laugh.

"She has you wrapped around her finger," Ziva declared. "We have been out for ice cream twice a week since that shop opened again."

It was summer. It was ice cream weather.

"We're supporting a local business," he said. "Like the French government here wants us to do."

"If that is what you need to tell yourself to justify yourself, then you do that," Ziva declared, still smiling. "You are a good parent. You are tough when you need to be, yes, but Tali knows she can come to you when she needs something. That counts for a lot."

He knew Ziva was talking about herself and her own Father, as much as Tali.

"My Dad," Tony started, feeling his voice crack. "When we were in the same place, he was a pretty lenient parent. He never really gave me a bedtime, or made sure I ate something that wasn't French fries. I told you about that time he left me a hotel room in Maui."

His chest hurt as he thought of the hotel room. The room that contained everything he should have wanted, but the only person he did had gone back to the mainland.

Ziva reached out for him. Her hand took his, and she squeezed his fingers.

"You were only ten," she said, acknowledging him.

Ten was so impossibly young.

Only four years older than Tali was now.

Only two years after he had lost his mother.

"He's a really amazing grandparent. Tali loves him. We've built a lot of bridges over the years," Tony continued. "But, not having those rules when I was a kid they really affected me. It took me a long time to learn good habits, and nobody is ever as patient with you as your parents."

"You are a good father," Ziva said. "And, that is something Tali will realise when she is older."

He hoped so. He wanted her to always have good memories of him, and for her to know she could come to him no matter what trouble she was in.

"Anything's better than ours, right?" he asked.

"Yes," Ziva said. "My father was very strict with us. My mother tried to be softer with us, and to protect us. I think that is why I so seldom say no to Tali. Even though I know you are nothing like my father. I have always been like that with her. I told you the story about how I ended up with this necklace."

Tony smiled. He had asked about the necklace during one of their first nights together, and Ziva had told him how Tali had wanted it, so Ziva had brought it, only for Tali to give it to Ziva.

"Yeah," he said. "She insisted it was for you. How old was she then?"

"Eighteen months, give or take," Ziva said. "It was just after my birthday."

"I bet she was adorable," he said.

"She was," Ziva replied. "Her personality was really starting to come through, and she liked anything musical."

Tony smiled, as he tried to imagine his daughter being younger she was when he met her, but came up with nothing.

"You know for her first birthday, she was more interested in the wrapping than the gifts," she declared.

"The ships sailed on that," he said, "You saw her at Christmas."

Tali had woken both of her parents up before dawn on Christmas morning. She wanted to see if Santa had visited. Tali had already opened two presents by the time the coffee had been brewed.

Ziva looked away from him, and down at the floor.

"You know I only got one birthday with her," Ziva said, her voice cracking. "And, I know I cannot make up for the ones I have missed, but I think that was why I brought her more stuff. As if I could make up for what I missed."

"You went pretty crazy in the toy store," Tony said.

They had brought most of Tali's birthday presents, after dropping Tali off at school one day. It had been a treacherous journey across Paris, involving two metro trains. Once, they finally got to the store Ziva had gone around putting toys and craft supplies into Tony's waiting arms. She had only been stopped when Tony had reminded her that they had to get all that stuff home.

"I know," Ziva said. "It is just, when we give her things her whole face lights up, and it feels like she knows how much I love her. I know I cannot buy her love."

Tali's love language was definitely gifts.

"She knows how much you love her," Tony said. "Even when you aren't giving her something. She loves you."

He thought of those days before Ziva came home, when he started to talk to Tali about the fact that her Ima was coming home. He remembered all the questions.

Will she love me like you do ?

Oh baby, she already loves you more than anything.

He then thought of the frenzy Tali had gotten herself into, when she found out they were less than a week away from Mothers Day, and Tali had no way of getting Ziva a present.

But, how will she know how much I love her?

Oh, she knows. Trust me, Ima knows.

"Still, I have asked a lot of her," Ziva said. "There is a lot I need to make up for, and a lot she has to forgive me for. I have completely upended her life."

Yes, there had been some tough moments, and the brief period of bed wetting, but Tali was happier now. More secure. She had been missing Ziva even if she did not have the words to say it.

"No," he said, trying desperately to keep his voice neutral. "When are you going to realise there is nothing to forgive or make up for. You are not a burden on us. We love you, and we missed you every day that we were apart, but that doesn't matter now, because you're back. We're all together now."

Ziva took in a deep breath.

"I know you've always measured your worth in what you're doing for someone, or giving someone," he continued, feeling himself getting worked up. His cheeks burned red. "I remember what you were like when you came back from Africa, when you were trying to prove that we didn't come and rescue you for nothing. And, that Vance wasn't pulling strings at the State Department for nothing. But, we would have all done it a thousand times, even if we'd gotten you out and you never set foot in NCIS again. We did it because we loved was the same for these last few years. We waited for you because we love you. I made peace with what happened after I left Israel because I love you, and I couldn't live with that anger. Tali loves you. I love you."

Silent tears ran down her face.

"I am sorry," she said, as she wiped her face with her hand. "I know you have said these things to me before. I have been working through these things in therapy for the last six months. I am still working through these things. I am still trying to remind myself that I am worthy of love without conditions."

He scooted closer to her.

His heart ached for her, and how little she thought of herself.

Would she ever understand just how much better she made his life?

"I'm gonna keep saying these things," he said, as he wrapped his arms around her. "Until my last breath, and I'm gonna make sure that Tali knows these things. I don't care about what choices she makes in her life, as long as she knows she deserves to be loved, and deserves to be happy."

"You are a good father," Ziva said. Her head on his chest.

His back spasmed, he'd be paying for this for days.

He was getting old.

"I'm just not making my Dad's mistakes," he said. "Or yours."

Ziva wiped her face with her hand.

"I love you," she whispered, looking up at him.

"I love you, too," he said.

"What are we going to do about all the gifts?" Ziva asked. "Could we save them until Christmas."

"Probably not," he said, with a frown. "She'll be into completely different things by then, and you've seen how much her reading has improved in the last few months."

Ziva nodded. That reading improvement had been because of her. Tali always wanted just one more bedtime story, and Ziva was more than willing to oblige.

"So, we are just going to give her all the gifts," Ziva said. "And, risk her becoming spoilt."

Could you really spoil a child, who had spent nearly four years without her mother?

"Yeah," Tony said, "I mean she'll love all this stuff, and it's been a tough year with lockdown and everything else."

"We are going to create a monster," Ziva declared.

"Ship's sailed on that one," he said. "But, she's our monster and we love her."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I was publishing this on FFN, this was the chapter where 'fic time' move ahead of real time. So moving forward the references to COVID-19/current events may have been a little different in reality than how they are here.


	19. Peace and Quiet

Ziva smiled as she looked up from the kitchen, and across the living area to Tony who was sitting on the couch with black earbuds hanging out of his ears. Occasionally he reached for his phone, and tapped at something, but mostly he listened, while looking out in front of him.

It was hot in their little apartment, and they both were wearing as little as they could get away with, without leaving their daughter with psychological scarring. Ziva had raided Tony's side of their tiny wardrobe and found an old OSU t-shirt, that was huge on her.

The desk fans whirred from their positions in the room. Tony had attempted to create a cross breeze but it would never be as good as air conditioning.

Ziva picked up the bowl from the kitchen bench, and walked across the living area.

Tony looked up at her, and took his earbuds out of his ears.

"Any of that for me?" he asked, as he looked into the bowl. She had picked up two spoons predicting this very question.

Ziva showed him the contents of the bowl, Greek yogurt and stone fruit, and the two spoons she had brought with her. He screwed up his face.

"I thought you had something good," he said. "That's diet food."

Ziva placed the bowl on the coffee table, picked up the book she had left there, and sat down on the couch.

"I like it," Ziva said.

The fruit was from a farmers market that had popped up near them. A place Ziva took Tali too. Tali enjoyed seeing all the colourful fruit, and had slowly come around to trying most of it at least once. She loved any form of berry, but had learnt where the limit was when it came to eating the sweet berries.

Ziva had worried about the crowds in the market, but because of social distancing, the crowds were manageable. Tali seemed to sense her mother's unease, and stayed close.

She adjusted herself on the couch, so she was reclining. Tony gently tugged at her feet, and laid them on his lap. His hands ran over her feet. He liked to keep his hands busy when he was listening.

"You've always been the healthy one," he murmured.

Physically, maybe. Mentally, definitely not.

Mental health wise, she was getting there. She had her daily time-out, where she went for a walk by herself to sort through her thoughts. She made sure she went to bed at the same time, and that her cell phone was left in the other room. She was getting better at verbalising her feelings, often before Tony asked if something was up.

"It is our rule, yes?" she asked. "If we want unhealthy food, we make it or eat while out."

They had sampled many of the city of lights, fine pastries, and sweet treats, and it showed up on both of their waistlines. Not that Ziva minded, the few extra pounds suited her, and she no longer needed to worry about running away from danger.

They had their weekly (lately twice weekly) ice cream treat, where Tali always managed to get a stain on her t-shirt. Tony usually came pretty close.

During lockdown they had gotten into the habit of baking once or twice a week. Tali did not have the patience for cakes that took forever to cook, but had enjoyed 'helping' with cookies. The image of Tali's hands covered in flour, and Ziva helping her place the cookies on a tray would be one of Ziva's happy places for a long time.

"Yeah," he said, with a smile. "You and Tali make the best cookies."

Ziva picked up the bowl and a spoon. She started to eat the yogurt. The fruit was slightly tart, a flavour profile that Tali did not quite understand.

Tony put one of his earbuds in his ear, and picked up his phone, to press play on whatever he was listening to.

Since, the lockdown had eased, both of them had independently started to be more healthy. Tony was taking longer walks to pick Tali up from school. Ziva was buying more fruit and vegetables. They had also, rather organically, started to limit their television time.

At least twice a week, once they had put Tali to bed, they settled onto the couch, Ziva with her book and Tony with his headphones. They were together, and quiet.

It was all rather peaceful.

Ziva's new life was one of peace. Of herbs growing on the kitchen windowsill. Of sleeping in. Of sunflowers on the dining room table.

Of the bicycle she had brought.

Ziva had stumbled on the city of Paris bike share schemes before lockdown, when she was leaving her therapist's office. She had watched as a woman whizzed past, hair coming out of her helmet. She looked so free. Ziva had wanted that freedom.

One day, just before the lockdown, when the news was filled with scaremongering, and the shops had sold out hand sanitiser, Ziva had walked out of her session, and felt the sun on her face.

It was too nice to take the metro train home, and the metro train could be a potential source of infection.

So she downloaded an app, rented a bike, and cycled home. The wind had blown through her hair, and she had felt the sun on her face.

It felt good. She felt free.

The drivers of Paris were not always bike friendly, so she had to be careful, but by the time she dropped the bike off in its designated return place she had discovered a new hobby.

In the first few weekends after lockdown, when Tony and Ziva wanted to get Tali out, but wanted to be cautious, they took Tali to the park with the bike she had gotten for her fifth birthday. Tony had tried to teach Tali to ride the summer before, but she lacked the confidence, so by the time Ziva came back to them the bike had almost been forgotten. As she approached her sixth birthday, she was ready and it only took a few attempts to get her going.

Outside of the park, Ziva had found some rental bikes, and had started 'racing' Tali. Tali always won, and both of them became more confident on two wheels.

After their second Sunday afternoon spent in the park, Ziva had brought a bicycle of her own, a refurbished bike from a speciality store. She had been lucky to get one, as the end of the lockdown had turned many of the residents of Paris into enthusiastic cyclists.

She and Tali had matching neon blue helmets, at Tali's insistence.

Tony was less excited by the new hobby.

I know we're in Europe, he had said as Ziva checked the tire pressure in the tiny courtyard at the back of the building, But I'm not getting on one of those. DiNozzo men over twelve do not ride bikes.

She had not pushed him, but he had borrowed her bike more than once to show Tali how to do a trick, or keep it moving while Ziva went to the local cafe to get some sustenance for their day in the park.

He had ordered a bike rack for the back of their car. One that was big enough for three bikes.

Ziva finished her yogurt, and placed the empty bowl on the coffee table. She picked up her book, and opened it where she had left off.

She was losing herself in the lyrical words before her. This mastery of language was why she had struggled to learn English in that apartment in the sky, while her parents fought in the next room.

"Can I ask you something?" Tony asked, as he pulled out one of his ear buds.

Ziva rested the book on her chest and looked up at him.

"Always," came her reply.

She was an open book now. Especially to him.

"What were you and Tali whispering about today?" he asked.

Ziva thought they had been hiding that better. Conducting their conversations when Tony was out of the apartment or when he was on the other side of their little apartment.

"Are you really going to pretend you do not know?" she asked.

"I am not pretending," he said. "It's just really good to see the two of you sharing secrets. I just hope they are not about me."

He had never done well with being left out.

She could still remember the hurt on his face, when he learnt he had been left out of a last minute dinner party Ziva held during her first years in the U.S.

He had tried to hide it, but he was hurt.

"I can confirm we were talking about you," Ziva declared.

"About how I'm the best Daddy and partner in the world," he said, with a grin.

"Something like that," she said. "And about Sunday."

"Sunday?" he echoed.

"You know what Sunday is," Ziva said. "Do not pretend."

"I do know what Sunday is," he declared. "It is day three of our daughter's sixth birthday extravaganza."

Ziva laughed.

Tali was set to have the best birthday ever. She would have more gifts than she knew what to do with, a cake from her favourite bakery, and both of her parents to make a fuss of her.

"Yes," Ziva declared. "It is also Father's Day."

Tony frowned.

"We sent something to Dad, right?" he asked.

"You were there when we ordered his gift," Ziva said. "You saw Tali's card for him."

They had ordered a fancy hamper of wine and cheese, and Tali had wanted to show off all of her new art skills in a card.

"Okay," he said. "Then we don't need to make a big deal of it then."

So far Ziva and Tali's plan included breakfast in bed with all the trimmings. Ziva had ordered a t-shirt that said World's Best Dad, and Tali had made a card.

Ziva knew he would wear the t-shirt with pride, even if it was not exactly Parisian chic.

"Have you met our daughter?" Ziva asked. "For her everything is a big deal."

Tony laughed.

"You know what I mean," he said. "It's her birthday weekend, we'll celebrate her."

"She declared that it is only fair that we celebrate Father's Day," Ziva said. "Especially since we celebrated Mothers Day twice this year."

The first Mother's Day celebration, which had occurred when the day was being celebrated in the US had been the main celebration. There had been a special breakfast, and the flowers Tali made from paper.

The second had been more subdued. Tali had given Ziva another card, and Tony had brought some flowers. The three of them had gone to the park, eaten take away pastries and Tali had practiced on her bike.

They had agreed that they would pick one Mothers Day to celebrate in the future.

Because they had a future now.

One that would not be taken away.

"You deserved both of those celebrations," he said.

She was making up for lost time. They all were.

"And you deserve to be celebrated as a Father," Ziva declared. "I did not think you would be so opposed to this. I thought you liked being the center of attention."

Hurt flashed across Tony's face.

His class clown behaviour was a coping strategy. He had been left behind so many times.

When he made a fool of himself, people saw him.

When everyone saw him, there was no way he could be forgotten.

"It's just," Tony started. "Fathers Day hasn't really been a big deal here before. I think Tali brought a card home last year, and we talked to Dad, but that's it."

"Well now it is a big deal," Ziva said. "Tali has planned something nice for you, and I am helping her. She wants you to know that you are the best Daddy ever."

"I'm not the best Daddy ever," he said.

"You took on a lot more than the average Dad," Ziva said. "I know you are being modest about it, but you are an amazing father."

He rubbed his chest.

"I did my best," he said.

"I asked a lot of you," she said.

She had worried about that. It was so much to spring on him, without her being there to explain.

"Did you think I would reject her?" he asked, his voice cracking.

Ziva shook her head.

"Me, maybe," she admitted. "But her, never."

"Good," he said. "Because I want you to know it never even occurred to me. As soon as I knew she was yours, I knew I would spend the rest of my life keeping her safe. She did not even have to be mine as well."

Bile rose in her throat.

Did he really think that Tali might not be his?

"She is definitely yours," Ziva said. "And, I would have never disrupted your life for a child that was not yours."

"I know she's mine. The minute I saw her, I knew," he said. "That's all moot now."

"Yes," Ziva said. "You know other men, lesser men in your situation would not have handled this so well."

Her father and his, were those lesser men. Both were thrust into single parenting in far less complicated circumstances than Tony and Ziva's.

"Well, I've always been the wild card," he said. "And, I was all she had. I had to give her my all."

Ziva felt her a tear slip down her face.

"You know these last few years," he said. "They have not been what I imagined parenting to be."

"I think it is one of those things that you cannot really imagine until it happens," Ziva declared.

Much like falling in love.

It was everything she imagined and more.

"Yeah," he agreed. "Before I met Tali, I always used to wonder if I had a kid out there. I mean I've had a lot of brief encounters and haven't always been the easiest to get in touch with. I was always pretty safe, but you know."

Ziva scrunched up her face.

They had forgone condoms when they fell into bed in the farmhouse. Ziva had been so sure that she would never be able to conceive.

Little did they know.

"What are you trying to say?" she asked.

"I always kinda figured if one of my swimmers had been the wild card, and some kid turned up that I'd step up," he declared.

She expected nothing less.

"I'd help financially and do that every-second-weekend kinda parenting," he said. "You know, I'd be the fun one. The one who let the kid stay up late and eat junk. Instead I got a crash course in parenting, while flying solo. You can't be the fun one without consequences."

"Do you wish it had been more like you imagined?" Ziva asked. "That you could have been the fun one."

"No," he said. "As much as this has been hard, and as scared as I am from potty training, the only thing I would change about these last few years, is you not being here."

Ziva looked at him.

"If I had a kid with someone else, or if we had been together from the start, it would have been easier for me to do this at arm's length, especially if I was still working at NCIS," he said. Ziva remembered those long hours. Good hours. Hours where she felt she was helping,"Because it was only me, I had to be everything. I had to give it my all. That was so good, because I know Tali so well. I would never have been able to do that, if I had become a parent any other way."

"You have thought about this a lot," Ziva said.

He'd done a lot of thinking over the last few years.

"Yeah," he said. "It took me a while to work through it all. I was angry for a long time."

"That is understandable," Ziva said, as she reached for his hand. "I know I say this often, but a part of me always worried you would never forgive me. That you would want to punish me. I do not know what I would have done if you had decided to keep Tali from me."

"Like I was going to do anything else," he said, his voice cracking. "I was never going to keep Tali from you. I could never."

"Maybe not," she said. "But, you did not have let me into your home. If you had wanted some sort of shared custody agreement, I would have submitted to whatever you wanted."

"That was never on the table," he said. "The universe cannot keep us apart."

Ziva nodded at him. They were forever bonded, long before they shared a daughter.

"You are not just a good father," she declared. "You are a good man too. A good partner."

He spluttered, and coughed.

"If you say much more, I'm going to have to replace all my hats, because my head is too big," he said.

"I mean it," she said. "You are much more than I ever thought I deserved."

"You deserve more than you think," he replied. "And, I don't want you to think I've been the perfect Dad. We all know I've been a pretty crap partner at times."

They had wasted so much time.

"Nobody is perfect," Ziva said. "And, I am far from the perfect mother."

She had been absent for almost four years.

She had kept her daughter from her father for almost two years. .

"The first year," he started. "It was really hard. There were lots of tantrums and meltdowns."

"Tali is a strong willed child," Ziva said.

"I meant me," he said, as he looked down at his lap. "Most of the tantrums and meltdowns were mine."

"You do not really talk about what it was like for you," Ziva replied.

"No," he said. "I don't want to keep talking about the past, we're focusing on the present and building a future."

"Please tell me what it was like," Ziva asked.

"It wasn't pretty," he said.

"I am sure it was better than you remember it," she said, as she reached for his hand.

"Well," he said. "At first it was like that scene in Three Men and A Baby, I didn't know how to change a diaper or what to feed her. Jimmy helped with all of that. He helped a lot."

"He is a good man," Ziva whispered.

He had been so excited when he drove Ziva to the airport. Full of stories about Tali. Full of reassurances. Full of love.

"I managed most of the care stuff and tried my best with a routine even though we were moving around a lot," he said. "But, it was the bigger stuff that was harder. She cried out for you the minute she woke up, and some of her tantrums were not just the normal terrible twos stuff. I was frustrated a lot, but I tried really hard to keep a lid on it with her. She probably still picked up on it, kids sense that stuff."

Ziva took in a deep breath.

A part of Ziva would always worry how much of her mental state, Tali picked up on, during her early years.

"I knew I was disrupting your life-" she started.

"No," he interrupted. "I mean yes, it was really hard, but it was all worth it. The first time she told me she loved me, I was a puddle of goo. We worked hard for that."

Ziva remembered her daughter in the days before she sent her away. Her chubby hands. Her light curls. Her baby soft skin.

Ima loves you. Ima loves you so much. Ima will love you forever.

"Once we were settled I started checking in with Jimmy more often," Tony said. "He's the one who started sending all those parenting books. He helped with the big stuff."

Under their bed, was a box of parenting books, mostly aimed at parents of toddlers, with bright covers and authors with letters after their names, they had hyperbolic titles like; 'The Single Dads Survival Guide' 'The Terrific Twos' and 'Parenting Without Screens'.

"The big stuff," Ziva echoed.

"Yeah," he said. "I managed to feed her and keep her clean, but I knew parenting was more than that. I know I couldn't be the perfect parent, but I wanted her to have a better childhood than I did. To have a better parent."

Ziva felt her heart heave.

"I read a lot about parenting styles, you wanted to raise her in Montessori right?" he asked.

Ziva had found a well thumbed through of a book on Montessori in his stash. She had flicked through the book and studied the passages Tony had underlined.

He had worked so hard at this.

Parenting was the most important job he'd ever had.

"I never really thought about it," Ziva said. "In those early days my only thought was getting through the days."

Those long nights. Those racing thoughts.

I do not deserve this.

I cannot let her be taken away.

"Well, I tried with the Monetessori," he said. "I think she liked it. We had one of those play kitchens, she loved that. I wasn't so good at limiting screen time. There was only one of me."

"You are a wonderful parent," Ziva said. "She is so happy. I worried that my absence would make her an unhappy child."

She was the center of so much pain.

"I was all she had," he said softly, as he handed her his phone. "I worked hard at keeping her happy."

He opened the phone with a passcode that Ziva knew anyway, and pulled up an orange audiobook app.

"I think I've done more research and reading in the last few years than I did in college," he said.

Ziva remembered the frantic google searches in the middle of the night.

Signs of colic.

Can babies sense their mother's mental health?

How do I know my baby loves me?

"I know audiobooks aren't really reading," he said. "But, I take in the information better. When she went to bed, or I was out and about I would put these on. This is why my French is so bad, I couldn't listen to these and practice my French."

He handed Ziva the phone. She flicked through his library, recognising some of the titles from the bookstore she liked near her therapists office. Most of the books were on parenting, there were a handful of fiction titles that had been turned into movies, and some other psychology titles.

"There are a lot of books about attachment," she commented.

She and her therapist had been talking about attachment theory in recent weeks. Ziva wondered if Tali would always go to Tony first, when something bad or scary happened.

"Yeah, blame SuperDad Jimmy for that," Tony said. "He and Breena were really into attachment parenting. They were always carrying Tori around in one of those sling things during her first year."

"I had one of those with Tali," Ziva said, as the memory of Tali sleeping on her chest came back to her. How had their almost six year old ever been so small. "I liked being handsfree, and sometimes she just liked to be held."

There had been so many late nights, where Tali's cries echoed through the farmhouse, but there seemed to be nothing wrong. Ziva had eventually just held Tali to her chest, and let her daughter work it all out.

"I figured I had a lot of ground to make up, on the attachment front," he said. "I couldn't carry her in a sling, so I kinda overcompensated. A lot of the books went pretty deep, and helped me make sense of a lot of things that were happening when I was a kid."

Ziva studied the titles. Her eyes rested on an audiobook titled 'The Parenting Book You Wish Your Parents Had Read'.

"I have not read many parenting books," she said.

Perhaps she should read more. She had to make up for lost time.

Things were calm now, but Ziva wondered what Tali would be like in a few years, when Ziva's absence from her life was not so easily explained. When she found out why her father had not been with her from the start.

Ziva could imagine Tali as an angry teenager.

"I buy more than I read," he said, with a shrug. "And, some of them go off the deep end."

She scrolled down the books, noting the fiction titles.

'About A Boy', 'The Green Mile' and 'The Best of Edgar Allan Poe'.

"There are some non parenting books on here," she said. "You like self-help books with swear words in the title."

He nodded, as Ziva scanned the titles with astrixed out swear words.

"Yeah, I had this account before I met Tali," he said. "After I left you in Israel, I did a lot of work on myself."

I can change with you.

Let me change with you.

If only she had gotten on that plane with him.

If only they had not wasted so much time.

"Abby mentioned you went to a men's group," she said.

She and Abby were talking more, managing a weekly phone conversation. It was easier on the phone. Ziva often took these calls at the park a few blocks away from the apartment.

Abby carried some hurt from Ziva's sudden extraction from their lives, and the mess she left Tony in. But, they were building bridges. It was easier to talk over the phone, where they could not see each other. Where they could rebuild their friendship slowly.

Abby had also changed in their years apart. Her career. Her home. Her whole life.

She was calmer these days. Softer.

They were all older. More mature.

"Yeah, I did for a while," he said. "It wasn't what you think. It wasn't just a bunch of divorced men blaming their ex-wives for everything."

"Did it help?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said. "After I came back from Israel, I knew I had to make some changes so I did. If you do what you've always done, you'll get what you always got."

Ziva flicked through the titles. There were a couple of memoirs by American men living in Paris.

Then she saw another title 'When Someone You Love Has Post Traumatic Stress'.

Her face flushed red.

"What about this one?" Ziva asked, showing him the book. "How long has this been on here?"

"A few months," he admitted. "I know you don't like that label, but I just wanted to be sure I was doing the right thing. Or at least not making it harder for you."

Ziva's and her therapist had spent a lot of time talking about a diagnosis. Ziva was resistant to labels and to pathologizing of her experiences. Her life had happened to her, it was not a diagnosis. When they talked about it, old memories came back to her. When Vance called her damaged goods mere weeks after they pulled her out of Saleem's dusty cell. Her Father's lectures about weakness.

America has made you weak.

Slowly, she had started to understand her therapist's point-of-view that a diagnosis gave Ziva a shorthand. It was an explanation to people who had not been there.

The short hand was Complex-PTSD.

The lived experience was anxiety, sleepless nights, and always being on alert in crowds.

In recent months, she and her therapist had started talking about the otherside of the coin. Talking about posttraumatic growth, and how even after everything Ziva had been through there was a lot of good.

Ziva could still do good in the world. So much good.

"I haven't finished it," he said as he took the phone from her. "You've probably seen I'm good at starting books, but bad at finishing them."

"I wish it did not have to be there," Ziva admitted.

"It is what it is," he said. "I bought that book because I love you, and I wanted to make sure I was doing the best I could."

Ziva's mouth dried.

He cared. He cared about her. He cared for her. Ziva could not remember anyone else who had cared about her so deeply.

"You are the best partner," she said, her eyes watering.

"It took me a long time to get here," he said. "When you asked me to leave in Israel, it hurt for a long time. I was angry for a long time. When I got your message that it was safe and you were coming home, I was really worried that it was all gonna come back up. That I'd screw it up again."

"You never told me," she whispered.

He had been so careful with her in those early days.

"It didn't come up," he said. "I mean there were some tense moments, especially before we had that conversation in the car, but I didn't feel like I thought I would. I just wanted to make it all better. For you, for me, and for Tali."

"You do make my life so much better," Ziva admitted. She thought of that trying summer after Jenny died, where nothing in Israel seemed to fit right. "You have for a long time. That summer after Vance split us up, when I went back to Israel, I had not realised how much you were a part of my life. How much you mattered to me."

Years later after she sent him away, for his own protection, she missed him even more. But, she did not call him. Even though he was just a phone call away. Even though he had said, he would do anything for her.

Because she did not think she deserved him.

She would do nothing but cause him pain.

"I think I missed you more," he said. "That ship was pretty damn lonely."

Ziva looked over the back of the couch, and towards Tali's room.

"I worry about Tali," she admitted. "And, how this all effects her."

"Isn't that parenting," he joked. "A whole lot of love, and a mega dose worry."

"I do not just mean generally," Ziva said. "In therapy we have been talking about how childhood affects adulthood, and how even if you seemed well adjusted as a child, these things can come back to you when you enter a romantic relationship."

"Yeah," he said. "I've read a little about that."

"Tali has taken the last six months so well," Ziva said. "I worry that it will all come back to us, when she is a teenager or when she is an adult. I have already caused her so much pain. I do not want to make her life any harder."

The source of all this pain is me.

"Maybe," he said. "And, if it does, we'll deal with it. She'll know she can come to us with whatever, and if we need to get her some extra help we will."

He was so calm about this.

She wondered if he had thought about this too.

"Teenage girls do not just go to their parents," Ziva said, remembering her own turbulent teen years. "They act out or they direct it all inwards."

Ziva had pulled all that hurt inwards, and turned into drive. She had to be the best. That drive had lingered long after her age stopped ending with a teen. That drive had become a fire that burnt her from the inside out.

"We'll deal with it," he said. "She'll know she can come to us, whatever trouble she gets herself into or with whatever she's feeling. Besides, she will grow up seeing us. We've been through some hard things and we've come out on the other side."

He made it all sound so easy, even though it would not be.

"I read a lot of things in those books," he continued, "But, almost all of them said that even if you didn't start well, you can change things, and the kid will be okay, eventually. It'll be hard, but it'll be worth it. The books were mostly talking about things like introducing new foods to picky eaters, or limiting screens after letting your kid sleep with the iPad, but I think it applies to the big stuff too."

Ziva ran her hand over her face, using her palm to trying to stop the tears that were threatening to fall.

"What Tali and I planned for you, it does not feel like enough," Ziva said, after a few quiet seconds. "I do not know how I will ever show you how much I appreciate you."

Tony smiled.

"As long as it's not a bike, I'm happy," he joked.

Ziva laughed. The laugh rolled though her, and made her chest ache. A tear fell.

"I know you appreciate me," he said. "Just like I hope you know that I appreciate you."

"I know," she said. "And, I can assure you I have not brought you a bike, though I know how much you like borrowing mine."

Tony laughed this time.

He handed his phone back to her, and pulled up a webpage. Ziva could see a fancy mountain bike with lots of technical specs that Ziva did not have on her bike.

"I ordered this for my birthday," he declared. "I did like borrowing yours. I probably won't use it on the road like you do, but I thought we could be that annoying family who hogs the path in the park."

Ziva smiled. She could not wait to be that family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again written in June(ish) 2020 and set around the same time. Hence references to Paris being out of lockdown. Also, audiobooks are totally real reading, but I've always viewed Tony as having a bit of chip on his shoulder about his intelligence.


	20. Come Home, Soon

The door of the apartment opened, and Tony felt the overwhelming urge to slam down the lid on his ancient laptop. Instead, he pulled up another tab, pretending that he was looking for places to visit for their upcoming summer road trip. Despite it costing more and taking longer than the train, the plan was to spend two weeks driving around the South of France. Tony had visions of Tali running in and out of the sea, Ziva sitting in the sand with a big sunhat and an even bigger book, and him with his big panama hat watching it all.

Ziva stepped into the apartment. A bunch of flowers stuck out from her backpack, and her bike helmet hung off the crook of her elbow.

Tony's eyes rested on the week old grazes on her forearm.

"Hello," she said, as she walked further into the living area.

Tony took her all in. The tan lines on her feet from the ugly sandals she was living in, now that the weather was warm. Her ankles were exposed in the linen blend trousers she was wearing during the warmer days.

"Hi," he said, as Ziva moved toward the kitchen, with her backpack. "I thought you were going to take the metro today?"

Ziva stopped still.

"I was," she said. "But, the weather is so lovely. There is a saying about getting back on the bike, yes?"

The week before, Ziva had walked into the apartment, with grazed arms and a hole in the knee of her new pants. A careless driver had not given her the right of way, and to avoid a more serious accident Ziva had tried to speed up only to take a tumble. Another cyclist had helped her up, and Ziva had walked the rest of the way home. Her cellphone was the most damaged by the accident, and the most easily replaced.

His chest had ached as Ziva told him her story. He had nearly lost her so many times, and he had come close yet again.

Didn't she know that he could not live without her?

She had been hesitant to let Tony help her when she walked in. He found the first aid kit and helped pick out the road grit from her arms. She had hissed when he put the antiseptic on her grazes. Tali had been even more upset than him, when she saw Ziva's busted up arms when they picked her up from school.

He had asked her to be careful on the bike, and she was. For the rest of the week she ran all her errands on foot or used the metro, and when they took Tali to the park to practice on her bike, she was more careful. To get to her therapy appointment she had looked up metro times. Her plan was to get off on one of the earlier stops and walk the rest of the way to her session.

"Get back on the horse," he declared, as he got up and walked toward the kitchen. "We looked up the metro times. I thought you were going to take the metro, today."

Ziva plucked the flowers from her backpack.

"I was careful," Ziva said, justifying herself. "But, I needed to do this today. Otherwise I would have never used my bike on the road again."

"Is that such a bad thing?" he mumbled. "Roads are for cars."

Bikes were for the park, where the most dangerous things were birds, or a toddler who was finally let loose from the stroller running without looking where they were going. Those bike rides were contained.

"I like cycling as transport," Ziva said. "I am not going to stop because I took one spill."

Tony sighed.

"I know," he said. "It's just, when you came home all cut up, I freaked out. I couldn't stop thinking about what would have happened if it was more serious. How I would have explained it to Tali."

Ziva reached across the kitchen counter and took his hand.

"I had all the same thoughts when I was walking home last week," Ziva admitted. "And when I shower and the water makes them sting. I promise you I am being more careful on the bike. If I have another accident or if I feel that is no longer safe, I will reevaluate. I think the bike will get less frequent outings when it gets cold again."

"I know I'm overreacting," he said. "It's just we've had more than enough near misses."

Ziva picked up the vase from the draining board. Wednesday was fresh flower day. Ziva's little treat after therapy. He had no doubt that there was another new book in her backpack too.

"I know," Ziva said. "I promise you that I do not think I am invincible. But, I also will not stop doing things that can be dangerous. That does not set a good example for Tali."

When he was rookie cop he had been to more than enough car accidents. Scenes with crumpled bodies, coffee cups in the cup holder and thankfully empty car who did not know they were living their last day.

Yet, he still got into his car day after day, because he had to get around.

Life involves risk. Some risks could be avoided. Some could not.

"You talked about your spill in your session, didn't you?" he asked.

"Yes," she said. "Briefly, I talk about how when we took Tali to the park on Sunday, and you got her on her bike I wanted to tell her to be careful, but that would have only freaked her out. Then she might not have gotten back on the bike."

Tony knew what she was getting at. Their love for Tali was so profound. He wanted to protect her. To wrap her in cotton wool. That would make him feel better, but it would not help her.

Parenting was putting your child out into the world, and trusting they would be okay. Trusting you'd given them enough skills to handle whatever the world threw at them.

"We cannot live in fear," Ziva declared, as she pulled out a box of pasta from her backpack.

Ziva had been so adamant that the anxiety that haunted her now, would not hurt Tali.

"No," he agreed, as he picked up the box of pasta. "Is this for tonight?"

"Yes," Ziva said. "This is how we are going to get Tali to eat ratatouille two nights in a row."

Ziva had learnt the hard way that any heat from cooking lingered in the apartment for a long time. When it had been just Tony and Tali in the apartment, summer dinners were often sandwiches and other meals that did not have to be cooked.

Ziva was less willing to eat sandwiches for dinner, and they were trying to convince Tali to eat grown up food. So they had gotten into the habit of cooking once to eat twice. The plan worked well for quiche, but less so for ratatouille.

Tali had been interested in the ratatouille when Ziva had said she was making it for dinner, thinking of the movie with the mouse. She had been less interested in eating it, when the bowl of vegetables was placed in front of her. Tali was still not convinced that eggplant should be a part of her diet.

Tony had tried not to feel like the worst parent ever when Tali ate two pieces of crusty bread and some coaxed spoonfuls of the vegetable stew for dinner.

"I will eat my hat if she eats anything other than the pasta," Tony declared. "And, I don't mean my winter beanie, I mean my sunhat."

Tali was better than most kids with her eating, but it usually took a few attempts with a new food before she added it to her diet.

"I am going to mix the leftovers with the pasta," Ziva replied. "So we will get at least one vegetable into her today."

Tony chuckled.

"The school lunches are actually nutritious here," he said. "So we don't need to worry too much."

With the amount of money they were dropping on tuition for Tali's international school. Tony hoped she was getting restaurant quality meals.

"You should remember that when you are minutes away from making her grilled cheese, because she will not eat what I have put in front of her," Ziva said.

"Point taken," he said.

Ziva adjusted the bright sunflowers in the vase.

"What did you do today?" Ziva asked.

Tony looked out the window, and then back at Ziva.

"I ran the vacuum over the couch," he said. He had found the second of Tali's favourite pair of socks among the couch cushions, days after he ordered another pair of the socks online. "I did some research for our vacation, and tried to find where you've hidden my birthday present."

A smile crossed Ziva's face. Her whole face lit up.

"You will never find them," Ziva said.

His birthday was six days away. Tali was in her last week of school, maybe she would help him. Not that he really cared what the presents were he enjoyed the apprehension. The waiting.

"Them, as in plural?" he asked.

There had been so many little presents in the last six months. The easter eggs Ziva had managed to find during lockdown. The World Best Dad t-shirt he was wearing now. All the books, and little things that were given for no reason.

"You will find out soon enough," she declared.

For the first time in nearly a decade he was looking forward to his birthday.

"You have been quiet," Ziva said, her eyes still focused on the sunflowers. "These last few days."

"I've been busy," Tony said. "All of the end of school year stuff for Tali, and planning our trip."

Those hundred hour weeks he used work seemed so foreign. Now, his days were his own, at least between nine and three.

He still managed to fill his days.

"I thought it was because of your birthday," Ziva said, as she picked up the vase, and walked toward the dining room table.

Tony followed her and sat down in front of the computer.

"I'm a big boy," he said. "My birthday isn't a big deal."

Ziva sat down at the seat next to him, the one that looked out the window. The seat that Tali called 'Ima's chair' when she set the table.

"I know you get sensitive about your age," Ziva said. "I thought that might be it."

"I am not sensitive about my age," he said.

His next birthday would be a big one. The big 5-0.

If someone had told thirty year old Anthony DiNozzo what his life would look like pushing fifty, he wouldn't have believed it. He would have never believed he would be surrounded by so much love.

Ziva raised her eyebrows, and looked him dead in the eyes.

"Okay," he relented. "I might be a little sensitive, but it's not about losing my youth."

"Really?" Ziva asked. "I remember when you found all that hair in your brought it to work. You were inconsolable."

That was years ago.

"I just feel like time is running out," he said. "That's why birthdays freak me out. I don't know how much time I'll have. Doesn't that freak you out?"

Ziva's eyes scrunched in confusion.

"Birthdays do not freak me out," Ziva announced. "I know it is silly but I like birthdays. I suppose it is because there were times where I thought I might not see the next one."

His chest heaved, and resolved to spoil her on her next birthday.

"It's about Tali," he said. "I know I'm not the oldest Dad ever, but I was nearly forty-three when Tali was born, and I don't know how many more years I'll have with her."

He spoke of being forty three when Tali was born, as if he had actually been there. As if he had been the anxious Dad in the delivery room. As if he had done the late night feedings and diaper changes.

He would have been there if he had known.

Ziva's mouth dropped open.

"Is there something wrong?" she asked.

He shook his head.

"I'm healthy as a horse," he said, tapping the table for luck. "It's just I know I was an older Dad. I know that my Dad is still going strong. Even if I make it to my late eighties like he has, Tali would only be in her forties. If it takes her as long to have kids as it did me, if she even wants to have kids, that doesn't leave much Pop-Pop time."

Time was running out.

"I find it hard to imagine Tali being an adult," Ziva declared. "Let alone having children of her own."

"So I am alone in this?" he asked.

This was his neurosis.

"I understand," Ziva said. "You do not want to imagine a world where you are not there for her. Even when she is all grown up."

Maybe, he wasn't alone in all of this.

"Yeah," he said. "That and we both know what it's like to lose a parent too early, and I don't want that for her."

Tali had been through enough.

"Whether she loses you when she is twenty or fifty, it will still hurt," Ziva announced, her eyes glassy. "But, she will have had many good years with you, and memories. That is what matters."

"You're probably right," he said.

"Even though I lost my mother when I was a teenager, I still have good memories," Ziva continued. "It hurts that she did not get to meet you or Tali, or see who I have become, but the memories I do have are a comfort. "

He thought of his own mother. Of the movies they shared. Of the movies he had now shown Tali.

Tali had loved the live-action The Little Prince, declaring it to be better than the animated version they had seen the year before, even with the dodgy CGI.

"Can we talk about something less morbid than your eventual death?" she asked.

Tony smiled, and opened his laptop.

"Let me show you what I did today," he said.

Ziva got up from her seat and stood behind him.

He pointed to the results from his things to do in Nice with kids, google search.

She reached across and navigated the mouse pad.

"You have been busy," she announced, her head was over his shoulder. He could feel her breath on his neck.

Just like the old days in the squadroom.

She navigated to the tabs at the top of the browser, and clicked on another tab.

The tab he had hidden when the door opened.

"What is this?" she asked.

It was a property listing for a four bedroom, three bathroom brick colonial house in Alexandria, Virginia Something that they could afford to buy outright with Ziva's inheritance.

"I can explain," he said.

Ziva moved from behind him, and sat back down in her chair. She pulled the laptop to her place and started clicking on the mousepad rather agressively.

"This is a lovely house," she murmured.

"The McTennant emailed me," he said. "He said that spending the last three months mostly at home with both kids, has made him realise that they need a bigger place. Now, he's said this before: when Delilah was pregnant, when they found out it was two babies instead of one, and when the twins turned one."

"They are two and a half now, yes?" Ziva asked.

She was clicking on the photos of the listing. No doubt admiring the separate laundry and grilling deck.

"Yep," he said. "Anyway, I didn't believe that the McFamily were ready to give up the sweet rent deal, so Tim sent me some houses they were looking at."

Ziva frowned.

"Delilah is a wheelchair user, yes?" she asked. "This house has three sets of stairs and very narrow hallways. I do not think it would be suitable."

Sometimes he forgot that Ziva and Delilah hadn't actually met, except through skype. That they had only spoken one-on-one for about a minute.

"Yeah," Tony said. "This isn't the house he sent me. The one he sent was all one level and open plan living. It looked like a spaceship."

Ziva raised her eyebrow.

"How did you end up looking at this one?" she asked.

Tony peaked over the laptop and saw that Ziva had stopped in the attic area that had been converted into a studio, with built-in bookshelves and a skylight.

It would be a perfect little home office.

Ideal for a mature college student to study away from her partner and child.

"The algorithm," he declared, as if he had no control. "It showed me another house listing and then I just kept clicking through."

"How many did you look at?" Ziva asked.

He peaked over the screen again, and saw her cursor heading toward the settings. She would see just how many he looked at in history.

"A few," he admitted.

He had studied each house, imagining his little family in each of them. Kitchens big enough for them to all cook together without bumping elbows. Spare bedrooms for guests to stay in. Spaces in basements or attics that could be carved into offices or quiet places for Ziva.

Each of the houses had been in what was considered the DMV metro area. Each was close to most of their friends, and his Dad. Each house could so easily be home.

"I should have realised," Ziva said, as she slammed the laptop lid down rather violently. "This mood you have been in, it was not about your birthday, you are homesick."

"Homesick," he echoed. "I mean maybe a little, but that always happens around the fourth of July, it helps that Bastille day is going to be more subdued this year."

The usual parade had been cancelled because of the virus.

"It all makes so much sense," Ziva said. "You have been pulling your feet about finding a bigger apartment because you are not sure if you want us to stay in Paris."

"Three things," he said holding up his fingers. "Firstly it's dragging my feet, secondly I'm not, and thirdly most of my procrastination is not wanting to deal with all the burrecacy, that I barely understand. Besides I love our life here."

He loved the slow meander to the shops every day, as much as he would never admit it he liked not driving everyday, and he enjoyed the mild winters.

Most of all, he enjoyed seeing Ziva smile as he walked the streets. She loved Paris. Paris was her favourite city.

"You can love our life, and still want to move back to the states," Ziva said. "They are not mutually exclusive."

He thought of what moving back would mean for them. It would mean getting used to driving every day again. It would put an end to random strolls to the ice cream store. It would mean disrupting Tali's life, something Ziva wanted to avoid at all costs.

It would mean seeing his Dad more often. It would mean getting to see the McTwins and autopsy gremlins spawn grow up. It would mean operating in one language.

"If you had asked me in January if I wanted to move back, I would have said no, or at least not in the next few years," Tony declared. "But now, after lockdown and everything, I like the idea of Dad being able to see Tali as often as he wants."

The pull home was strong.

"Okay," Ziva said. "Let's do it."

"Okay," he echoed. "You want to move back? You love it here."

"I do love it here," Ziva said. "I also loved it in the U.S. During my first year there I was asked if I wanted to go back to Israel, and I told that person I loved being in the US. I have happy memories in the US."

Tony nodded. He wondered whom she had the conversation with.

"I suspect that was more because of the people than the place," Ziva admitted. "But, it was the same when Vance split the team up, and I went back to Israel. Those few months were so hard. Nothing felt right. Nothing felt like home."

"Does it feel like home here?" he asked.

"You and Tali are home for me," Ziva said. "We could be anywhere, but as long as I have you two I will be happy."

Tony wished he could be so bohemian about it all, but he missed America. He missed understanding the culture he was living in. America was home for him.

"We have a good life here," he said.

"We could have a good life in the U.S," she said. "I know it is harder for you here, than it is for me."

"My French is not that bad," he said.

Ziva smirked.

He barely had to use his French. In Paris it was easy to find people who spoke English. Shop staff would hear his shaky French and respond in near perfect English.

Tali's international school operated mostly in English. Tali's fancy international school had been chosen mostly for that fact.

Tony did not have a job. He missed having a job.

"Your French is very good for someone who learnt it in their fifth decade," Ziva said. "And, I did not mean your language abilities when I said that."

"What did you mean?" he asked.

"I meant that you are American," Ziva said. "Through and through."

"We live in a global world," he said. "Well not at the moment, but I can be an American in Paris."

"Yes you can be," she said softly. "You know when Tim found out that I was-, when I was in DC last time."

"When he found out you were alive," he interrupted.

"Yes," she said. "He asked me to come home. My only thought was about you and Tali, but now I quite like the idea of going back to the U.S."

"Do you really want to do this?" he asked.

"Yes," she said.

"But, what about your therapist?" he asked.

"There are therapists in America," Ziva said softly. "Besides, I do not intend to be in therapy forever."

"You won't be able to ride your bike there, like you do here," he said. "Definitely not on the road."

Ziva raised her eyebrows.

"Maybe not to commute," she said. "But, we could find a house near a bike path. We could at houses in Bethesda or Silver Spring, I seem to remember both of those places had good cycle paths."

She was making it so damn easy.

"The winters are terrible," he said.

He needed to be sure that she really wanted this.

"I survived eight of them," Ziva retorted. "I think I could survive some more. Especially, if we go somewhere warm during Tali's winter break."

So it was decided.

"Why are you testing me on this?" she asked. "It is not like America is unknown to me. I fought hard to become a citizen. I want to live there."

He remembered the months she spent studying for the test. She had not just learnt the flashcards, but instead she had read dozens of history books. She could practically recite the constitution. She still read the occasional biography of the founding fathers.

"I know," he said. "It's just I want us to think this through. I don't want to drag you two back home, and have you be miserable."

"Why would I be miserable?" Ziva asked.

"It's not like it is here," he said.

"I am well aware," Ziva declared. "As much as I would miss Paris, I think we would be very happy in D.C. At this point a separate laundry room would really boost my quality of life."

He chuckled. A second bathroom would boost his quality of life in the same way.

If they stayed in Paris, they might be able to find a house that had two bathrooms, and a laundry room but it would probably be at the edge of the city, and cost them a lot more euros than they were willing to spend.

It would also not bring them any closer to where most of their favourite people lived.

"I think you would be happier there," Ziva said.

"I am not unhappy here," he said. "We have a good life."

"We do," she said. "But, you are not tethered. It feels very temporary here."

One letter from immigration could send them back to the states how could it not feel temporary. It was brave to place yourself in another country, try to build a life, knowing that it could all fall apart with one letter. And his reasons for moving were individual, he was not trying to escape a government that wanted him dead or a civil war that already claimed so many loved ones.

"I didn't make a lot of effort," he admitted. "You've heard my French. Besides it's too easy to be an expat in Paris."

He had tried to go to French class once Tali started at preschool, but had found it hard along with the bright eyed twenty year olds hailing from other faraway lands and already knowing English as a second language.

He had considered getting a tutor, but had let time pass without looking into.

He was just waiting for Ziva.

"It is," Ziva said.

"Is this what it felt like when you moved to the US?" he asked. "Like you were mostly in one place, but you'd left an arm in the other place."

Ziva frowned.

"Before I moved to the US I had basically been living out of a bag," Ziva admitted. "I tried to keep reminding myself that a call from Tel Aviv could end it all, but it was easy to make a home there. I built routines. I had places I went to regularly, which was something I had not had for a while. And, there was all of you. I did miss Israel at times. I missed speaking Hebrew, but when I was back, I knew it was not home."

"You stayed-" he stammered. "Before."

"I had to," Ziva said. "I had to shut myself away from all of you, before I caused you more pain. I know now that I was wrong. A part of me will always wish I got on that plane with you."

His chest ached.

If only.

"So we're gonna do this," he said again. "We're gonna go home."

"We are," Ziva said. "Maybe, you can get a job when we go back."

"You sick of me already?" he asked.

"No," Ziva said. "But, I know you miss working. You need colleagues to annoy."

Those times in the squadroom with her and McGee were some of his happiest memories.

"I do," he said. "But, if I do get a job, it'll be part time. I want to be home for dinner."

He wanted to help Tali with her homework. He wanted lazy evenings with Ziva, after Tali went to bed.

"I like the sound of that," she said.

"It'll be easier for you to go to school too," he said tentatively. "If that's something you still want to do."

"I do," Ziva said. "Eventually."

"So, it's settled," he said. "The DiNozzos are going home."

"I am not a DiNozzo," she reminded him.

"In all but name," he muttered.

Maybe one day she'd be a DiNozzo too.

One day soon.

"What about Tali?" Ziva asked suddenly.

"Well we have to take her with us," he said. "Child abandonment is frowned upon here. Besides, she's cute, I'd miss her."

"No," she said. "I mean her whole life is here. Her school. Her friends. Everything she knows."

"She's moved countries once now," he said. "She'll be fine."

There would be teething issues, but they would get through it. Just like they found their new normal once Ziva came home.

"She was not even two when she left Israel," she said. "I do not think she remembers it. This would be different."

"Kids move all the time," he said. "Especially in a city like D.C, she wouldn't be the only new kid. Besides, we'll research everything to make it easy on her."

Like they researched everything else for her.

"Maybe, we should try and coincide it with the school year," Ziva said. "To limit the disruption, to give her a chance to say goodbye to her friends."

The goodbyes would not matter too much at Tali's fancy international school there was almost always some sort of goodbye party for a child who was following their parents somewhere.

"I don't think we'd be able to pack up and move in eight weeks," Tony said. "I mean I've moved quickly, but not with a six year old in tow. Besides with everything going on in the states right now, it would be really hard to move."

There were more cases there. The EU was restricting visitors from the US.

"I think we should do this slowly," Ziva said. "To give Tali a chance to adjust."

"We could aim to move this time next year," he said. "It would give us time to work through everything, and see a little more of Europe once it opens up more."

"I like the idea of her having a normal school year," Ziva said. "Especially after this year."

"It gives a lot of time to start looking at houses, and schools," he said. "Maybe, we can promise to get her a puppy to help sweeten the deal."

He could picture it already, the two of them sitting on a deck as the sun set, while Tali played in the garden with a dog. Their house slightly messy from guests earlier in the day. His Dad asleep on the couch in the living area, with a cat next to him. Maybe, his Dad would have a room of his own in their big house, or at least use their guest room frequently.

"I will hold you to that," Ziva said.

Ziva liked dogs even more than Tali. He could already imagine Ziva slipping Fido extra food as she cooked, and taking him on gruelling runs to compensate.

His imaginations already felt real. They felt like home.

The DiNozzo's were coming home.


	21. In The Summer Time

Tony wiped sweat from his brow, as he climbed the second flight of stairs. His shoulder sagged under the weight of the groceries in the canvas bag. He stopped briefly on the landing, and looked out the small window.

Lyon, the first stop on the David-DiNozzo family road trip, was a truly beautiful city.

Tony smiled as he watched the golden early evening light settle on the world heritage city. Ziva had spent the last few weeks looking up the history of each place they were visiting. She was very interested in the city of Lyon's Roman history.

Perhaps coming from such an ancient land drew her to equally ancient history.

His audiobook played on, a fiction title, brought with the credits Ziva had brought him for his birthday.

He took one lingering look at the view from the landing. At the people going about their evenings. Terraces in front of cafes with couples looking into each other's eyes. Children running past in their sandal clad feet. Little dogs pulled their owners along on their leashes.

It was a shame they were only in Lyon for one night.

He turned and looked to the next set of stairs, when would he learn that these old buildings so seldom had elevators. When would he stop renting apartments three or floors into the sky.

His audiobook played on, and Tony determined that the movie adaptation was better. He plucked his phone from his short pockets and turned the audiobook off, as he reached the door of apartment 3A. He plucked the key from the front pocket of his linen shirt and opened the door.

The tiny apartment was in a slightly better state than he left it in forty minutes ago. The doors to the tiny Juliet balcony had been opened, and the slight breeze blew through the apartment. The rainbow tie-dye dress Tali insisted she wear for their journey, was lying over one of the dining chairs, with a wet patch on the chest.

Even with the doors open there was the lingering scent of vomit.

Exactly two hours and ten minutes into their journey, just as they had finally gotten out of Paris, Tony and Ziva had learnt that Tali got car sick.

The door of the tiny bathroom opened, and Ziva stepped out. Her curls were wild having been released for the braid she had put it into as Tony packed the car. The exhaust fan whirred.

Ziva smiled when she saw him, and then pressed her fingers to her lips, before pointing to the sliding doors behind him.

The apartment had been advertised as a compact one bedroom that used every inch of space, which meant that moving around was a game of tetris. The kitchen was separated from the living area by a flimsy wall, with sliding doors. The living room became the bedroom, with the couch folding into a double bed, and the two armchairs becoming single beds.

Tony's visions of him and Ziva cuddling up with a movie, while Tali slept had been quashed.

At least Ziva would get a chance to dip into the tote bag of books that she had brought with her. A bag that had been placed on one of the passenger seats, when they rearranged the car looking for something to soothe Tali's car sickness, and made the alarm because the motion sensor in the seat sensed an unrestrained passenger.

Ziva moved across the living area, she placed the blouse she had been wearing on the table, sporting the same wet patch on the chest as Tali's dress. Their daughter was a projectile vomiter.

Their next holiday apartment in sunny Nice, had a washing machine, and Tony knew they would get good use out of it.

Ziva moved toward the kitchen, and stood behind the counter. Their reusable mugs had been washed out and were laying on the draining board. Their three stainless steel drink bottles stood to attention on the bench. Tali's slightly smaller pink bottle in between his and Ziva's orange and green ones.

"When did she go down?" he asked, as he took the canvas bag off of his shoulder and laid it on the kitchen counter, navigating it carefully so it did not squash Ziva's charging phone.

"Almost as soon as she laid down," Ziva said, as she navigated the kitchen and found a chopping board, a knife and a plate. "We did not even finish our story."

"She must have been beat," he replied.

"Yes," Ziva said. "She is right in the middle of the sofa bed. That might complicate things when we go to bed."

Tony smiled to himself.

Tali was so selfish when she was sick.

"I'll take one of the single beds," he said.

He turned slightly and looked toward the diving wall, trying to imagine what it looked like. Tali starfished in the middle of the bed. Her little snores. Her curls all over the pillow.

He was tempted to look in, but did not want to risk waking her.

"No, I will," Ziva said, "Your feet will be hanging off, that will not be comfortable."

Tony started unpacking the canvas bag. He placed the paper bag from the pharmacy near Ziva's charging phone, and started to lay down the vegetables he had brought.

The plan, when the trip was still a daydream that got them through humid afternoons in Paris, had been to arrive in Lyon in the early afternoon, explore a little bit, and then have an early dinner with Tali in a restaurant.

Tony had missed restaurants during the lockdown.

That plan had fallen through when Tali announced she was not feeling well, and Tony managed to pull over on the A6 just in time for her to not throw up in the car.

It had taken them an hour longer than google predicted, and Tali was in no mood to be dragged around. So they had gone to Le Parc de la Tete d'Or, hoping visiting the zoo would cheer her up. Even seeing a real life giraffe could not boost her mood for long.

So, as soon he could, Tony had snuck off to collect the holiday rental agency to collect the keys for the apartment, and they had gotten back in the car.

It was not the best start to their holiday.

The plan for a picnic dinner had been made, through the door of the bathroom, while Ziva helped Tali clean up. It was too warm for a big meal, and neither of them wanted to cook.

The idea had been good in theory, but its execution was tricky, by the time Tony got to the supermarket after buying almost every nausea remedy in the pharmacy, and getting lost twice, there was not a lot left, and the staff were getting read to close up.

"She'll freak out if she wakes up and she's not next to you," Tony declared. "She's only wanted you today."

Ima, I feel sick, had been the words out of Tali's mouth as the car finally picked up speed, but not too much speed, because it seemed like every family in Paris had the same plan to get out of the city as them.

Ziva picked up one of the carrots he had brought, and started to peel it with the side of the knife.

A slight smile crossed her face.

"You're like the cat that got to cream," he said.

"You are not supposed to give cats cream," Ziva replied, as she picked off a long strip of carrot peel.

Tony produced the two cheeses he had selected for their picnic and the hummus he had brought.

"You know what I mean," he said, as he opened the firm cheddar, brought mostly for Tali. "With Tali today."

"I am not happy she is sick," Ziva said quickly. "But, this is going to sound silly, but I am a little happy she asked for me. Usually when she is sick or something is scary for her she goes straight to you. I understand why she does that, and I am glad she has you as a safe place, but today I felt useful. I felt like we have made progress."

All those books about attachment came back to him.

And, all those nights where Tali would wake and call out for Ziva.

The last time she was really sick, came back to him too, when Ziva had only been back with them for seven weeks, and no matter what she did, Tali only ever wanted him. It had broken his heart to watch Ziva's attempts to soothe be rejected.

"I'm glad she asked for you," he said. "I didn't like the idea of you driving us."

Ziva laid the now peeled carrot down on the chopping board, and thrust her knife into it. She carefully but quickly cut it into six almost equally sized sticks.

"We probably would have made it here a lot sooner," Ziva said, as she laid the carrots on the plate.

After Tali had fertilized the grass on the edge of the A6 with her vomit, and decided she was okay to get back into the car, Ziva had vacated the front passenger seat to take up residence in the back seat with Tali.

Every time Tali had so much as whimpered, Ziva had been ready with water, a sick bag, or a comforting word.

"She probably would have thrown up all over the car," he retorted. "You can be quite fast and furious when you want to be."

They both laughed slightly, before looking toward the sliding doors.

Ziva pivoted in the kitchen, and picked up the three plastic boxes with their different coloured lids from the draining board, and laid them in front of the chopping board.

The journey from Lyon to Nice would be another long driving day, and Ziva wanted to be prepared with snacks. The snack boxes would be filled with healthy snacks because parenting was all about modelling.

Ziva started to peel another carrot. The orange ribbons fell onto the chopping board.

"Did the pharmacy have any remedies?" she asked.

Tony reached for the paper bag, and started laying out the remedies; hydrating tablets to dissolve in a water bottle, ginger candies that she probably would not eat, and an over the counter medication that Tony wasn't sure about giving her.

Ziva put down her knife and picked up the medication with an eyebrow raised.

"I'm not sure about that either," he announced, hoping he had read her expression right.

"It seems a little extreme," Ziva said as she put the box down. "She seemed to feel better once we took the tablet off of her, and when we were playing I-Spy."

He hoped that the journey from Lyon to Nice had more things to spy, than the journey from Paris to Lyon.

Ziva returned to the carrot and laid it down to chop it up. This time the slithers of carrots were placed in the snack boxes.

"You'd have been proud of me," Tony said as he watched her get another carrot out of the bag. "They let me attempt French for three whole sentences before getting a teeanger to translate. Though she confused morning sickness and motion sickness. The pharmacist wasn't sure how a sick year old could have morning sickness. When I mimed driving she worked it out."

Ziva's face broke out into a smile.

"Those ginger candies helped when I had morning sickness," she said, as she peeled and chopped the carrots.

"Was it bad?" he asked.

McDaddy and Autopsy Gremlin had always talked about the terrible morning sickness their wives had had. Breena actually lost weight in the early months of pregnancy, and Delilah had lived off a diet of crackers and peppermint tea.

"Yes," Ziva said, her voice soft. "Not that I thought it was because of pregnancy at first. I was not taking care of myself after I sent you away."

His chest hurt as he made sense of her words.

"I fainted once, because of it," Ziva continued. "I had taken myself for a walk in the olive groves, and I must have been dehydrated. After that, I finally resolved to see the doctor. I was sick for the first five or so months, and it was not just in the morning."

Bile rose in his throat.

He would have been there if she had told him.

He should have been there. She should have told him.

"I-, I'm-," he stammered. "Sorry."

Ziva laid down her knife, and looked at him.

"I am sorry for bringing this up," Ziva said.

"No," he whispered. "We should talk about these things."

Ziva nodded and then started cutting the carrots.

The noise of the knife hitting the chopping board was rhythmic. Tony blinked a few times and reminded himself that the woman who was chopping carrots into sticks, was the same woman who once had a knife collection in her apartment. Who once killed a man with a credit card.

How she had changed.

How they had both changed.

Tony continued pulling the shopping out of the bag. Cherry tomatoes and strawberries in plastic punnets. Three boxes of crackers brought in place of the bread Ziva wanted, because all the bread looked old, or was pure white flour which did not agree with his digestive system.

He then pulled out the small bottle of wine, he had impulse brought, while waiting in line at the only operating supermarket checkout.

He held it up and pointed to it. Ziva nodded.

"Seeing as our vacation did not exactly start how we wanted," he said. "I got this."

Ziva turned around, and started looking for some glasses in the cupboard. There were no wine glasses, but she found two mugs that had been white once upon a time.

He watched as she rinsed them out, and then came back to him. A tea towel over her shoulder. The mugs were placed in front of him. Tony started picking at the foil around the bottle.

"I do not think it was that bad," Ziva said as she handed him the tea towel. "I enjoyed the zoo, even if Tali was not impressed."

Tali, in better health, would have lost her mind over the zoo.

Tony wrapped the tea towel around the neck of the bottle and popped the cork without much noise.

"I think I will get up early tomorrow," Ziva announced, as she returned to her chopping. "I would like to go for a run, it is always a good way to meet a city. Plus the exercise would be good."

She had packed her running shoes and exercise clothes, even though they had planned no strenuous activity, at least none that required clothes.

Now, Tony understood this part of her coping.

Especially since her therapist, like most of Paris, was also on vacation. So Ziva needed to be strict with her routines.

He had seen the journal that was tucked into her books.

"Sounds like a plan," he said. "If Small Fry is feeling better, I'll get her ready, and maybe we can meet you for breakfast somewhere."

Lyon was supposed to have an amazing food scene, something Tony wanted to sample.

"We probably need to be careful what we feed her," Ziva said. "Some foods might irritate her stomach."

Tony started to pour the wine into the mugs. The bubbles fizzed.

"Maybe we'll get breakfast ready here," he said. "I was thinking we should leave a little early, so we can stop for breaks."

Ziva opened the hummus, and screwed up her face.

"That is not hummus," she declared, as she placed the tub in the center of the plate.

Tony picked up his cup of wine and took a sip. The wine tasted exactly like the price he paid for it. It was fizzy and left a slight aftertaste.

"It was the best I could do," he said, as he reached over the counter, and dipped a carrot stick into hummus. "They were ready to close up when I turned up. I got death glares by every single member of staff."

During the lockdown, Ziva had reintroduced him, and introduced Tali to the magic of fresh hummus. Tali loved the stuff, and would eat a whole plate of vegetables if she got to eat hummus with them.

Ziva smirked. She took her own cup of wine, and her lips disappeared behind the mug. She scrunched up her nose.

"I'll buy better wine when we get to Nice," he promised.

Ziva put her cup down, and stuck a carrot stick into the hummus.

The golden light streamed through the windows, and a slight breeze moved through the apartment. It was the perfect summer moment. Something Tony knew would sustain him when they were back in Paris, and it was rainy and cold.

"We should do this," Ziva said, as she pressed the knife into some cucumber. "When we go back to the U.S."

That had been the main topic of their late night conversations in recent weeks, they had narrowed down areas they were going look for houses in, decided that they would likely keep Tali in private education, and Ziva had looked into what she would have to do to get into college as a mature student.

"Drink wine?" he asked, as he took another sip of the bubbly liquid.

"Yes that," Ziva said. "But, I meant travel. I lived in the U.S for eight years and I did not see very much of it. Almost all of the trips I took were for work."

Tony looked out the window and back to her. Her curls were sun bleached and her shoulders were suntanned. Summer was her season.

"I'd like that," he said. "There's so much I want to show Tali."

He wanted to take her to all the theme parks in California and listen to her scream in excitement. He wanted to take her to New York, and watch her face light up. He wanted to show her the rugged coasts of New England, and some of the places he spent his own childhood.

"Yes," Ziva said. "There is so much to see. I always wanted to go to Hawaii."

He thought of that hotel room in Maui, and waiting in vain for his Dad to come back.

Maybe, he could make new memories in old places.

"Maybe, we could rent an RV and go on a big road trip," he said. "Not to Hawaii obviously, but we could see other places."

"An RV?" Ziva asked. "I thought you did not do camping."

"Well an RV isn't exactly camping," he said. "Some of those things are like mini houses. As long as I've got a proper bed I'll be fine."

For a brief period on their drive to Lyon they had been stuck behind a car pulling a camper, and it got Tony thinking, maybe they could be that annoying family.

"Maybe," Ziva said, non committal.

"I want to take you two to Italy one day too," he said, as he took another sip of his wine. "I want to show Tali the motherland."

Technically, Tony could keep driving when they headed to Nice, they would end up in Italy. It still blew his mind that the borders were so easily crossed in Europe.

"I would like that," Ziva said. "I have always wanted to see more of Italy."

He pictured her in a gonalda in Venice. He pictured her showing Tali the Colosseum in Rome. He pictured the three of them driving along the stunning Amalfi coast.

"Maybe, if Dad's up to it, we'll take him too," Tony said. "You know how much he's missing travel."

Senior had insisted they send him every single picture they could. He was still mostly confined to his apartment. Which in his own words was the longest he had spent at home since Tony's mother had died.

The news was saying international travel might not get back to normal for years. Maybe, Senior would never get to leave the country again.

"I would like that," Ziva said, as she picked up a cherry tomato and plopped it in her mouth. "Your father is a good travel companion."

"We could go to Israel too," he said.

"It is quite a journey from Italy to Israel," Ziva replied, as she returned to her chopping. "I know summer vacations from school are longer in the US, but if you plan to work when we go home, I don't imagine you getting weeks and weeks off of work."

If only he could take French labour laws with him when they went back.

"I don't mean in the same summer," he said. "I'm saying I'd like for us to go to Israel at some point. I haven't really gotten the chance to do the touristy stuff there."

Every time he had been to Israel it had been because something had gone wrong. Rivkins death. Ziva's breakdown. Ziva's 'death'.

Ziva's chopping became more aggressive. Tony was worried she might cut her finger.

"I know you said it's not home for you anymore," he said. "But, you wanna go back one day, right?"

Ziva laid down her knife, and looked up at him with a soft look.

"Honestly, I am not sure," Ziva said. "When I had to-, when I had to fake my death, I told myself I probably would never be able to go back. I put any feelings I had about that away. I had much bigger steaks to fry."

Tony felt his chest heave.

"Fish," he said. "You have much bigger fish to fry."

"But, you fry steaks as well," she said.

She was right, but that was not the idiom.

"Do you miss it?" he asked.

"It is a part of me," Ziva admitted, as she reached up for her necklace and fiddled with the pendant. She no longer wore a Star of David, but the necklace was just as precious. "But, it is complicated. I have good memories and bad memories from there. I would like the chance to make new memories. Sometimes I dream about it. I really think Tali would like the coast at Haifa, and the forest outside of Jerusalem."

"I'd like that too," he said.

"I do not think I would be able to go back to the farmhouse," Ziva announced, as she moved a bent finger under her eye to catch any tears that tried to fall. "That would be too much."

Tony remembered holding a screaming Tali, as they stood in front of the burnt out bones of the farmhouse. He had wanted to see where it happened. Where she took her last breath.

Not even two weeks later he held her in the dusty Cairo hotel room, and the farmhouse had been forgotten.

It didn't matter.

She was alive.

There was noise from the other side of the apartment, Tali was awake.

"Ima," Tali called out. "Daddy."

Ziva moved toward the sliding doors, and Tony followed two steps behind.

They found Tali laying on the bed, her hair all over the pillow and her legs sticking out of the duvet.

Ziva rushed to her side, and placed a hand on her forehead, pushing Tali's hair back. It was all so tender.

"You are awake," Ziva announced. "You look much better."

"Hi Daddy," Tali whispered.

"Hi Tali-bear," Tony said, as he sat down on the end of the bed. "Are you feeling better?"

Tali flung off the duvet, revealing her new summer pyjamas, pink ones with a cat print.

"Yes," she announced. "I'm hungry now."

Tony looked at Ziva. Through a few raised eyebrows and nods they decided they should probably feed her.

"We were having a picnic," Tony said. "Would you like to join us Miss Tali?"

Tali's eyes lit up, she picked up a ratty looking Kelev.

"Let's go," Tali said as she started to get up from bed. "I'm starving."

Twenty minutes later they had fashioned a picnic blanket out of two beach towels and Tali had hummus all over her face, and Tony had taken a photo to send to his Dad.

He realised that these would be the memories that kept him warm, when they had bad days or Paris was cold and wet, he would think of the picnic they had in Lyon.

"You know, this really isn't a bad way to start a vacation," he whispered to Ziva, as she put some cheese onto a cracker for Tali.


	22. The Waves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Anxiety attack. 
> 
> This one is definitely a little heavier than the previous chapters. Hence note at the top.

The big wave came toward her with feriousity. The blue grey water was menacing. Then it broke. White foam rushed toward her.

Then it knocked her down. It pushed her under. It tried to keep her under with force. Her chest ached with the weight.

She sputtered and flapped her arms, trying to get back up, but the water kept dragging her down.

"Tali," she called out. She was desperate.

She would let the water take her, as long as Tali got out.

She had to keep her daughter safe.

So much else had been taken from her. She could not let her daughter be taken too.

"Tali!" she shouted, but she could not see her.

She had just been here. In her brand new pink ruffled swimsuit. Ziva had just doused the tiny child in sunscreen, trying not to think of the article she had just read about sunscreen killing the sea.

Where was Tali?

She had to get to Tali.

She turned looking back toward the beach. Trying to find Tony in the crowds of people. But he was too far away.

He was most likely lying on his back, with his earbuds in and his hat over his face, and there bags guarding the sand castles Tali had created. Completely unaware that the sea had taken Tali.

How would she explain this to him?

That she had let the sea swallow their daughter.

Their most precious thing.

Ziva turned back toward the sea. She scanned the horizon looking for someone to help her, but the sea was empty.

Another wave rose up, and Ziva walked toward the wave. She had to find Tali.

The wave rose up, but as it broke, it became sand. The sand got into her mouth. The grit between her teeth.

"Tali," Ziva called as the sand sent her backwards.

Saleem's laugh echoed around her. Cigarette ash fell on the floor.

She was back there. Back in the dusty cell. Back where she thought she would die.

Where she was ready to die.

Saleem walked toward her. His footfalls getting closer on the dusty cell.

She was cold, and she could not feel the weight of the canvas shirt she had been wearing before.

The water had been to cleanse her.

Not for her, but for him.

Saleem Ulman did not like dirty women.

Then it went dark.

"You have a daughter," Sahar said from above her.

The beam was heavy on her shoulder. It was cold.

"And, you cannot keep her safe," Sahar declared. "You are a terrible mother."

The words pierced her heart.

"Ziva," a voice called. It was soft. It was kind.

"Ima," Ziva called out.

Her mother was standing in front of her, wearing the ancient bathing costume that got an outing each year during their trip to Haifa. The swimming costume that had been brought the summer Ima was pregnant with her little sister, and was permanently stretched out. Her sunglasses covered her eyes, her hand rested on the frame of the glasses. The sun in Haifa was always so bright.

Ziva's sister, another Tali, one she could not save, was sitting on their towels under the huge sun umbrella that Ziva hated carrying. Another towel wrapped around her. She looked sad.

Why was her sister always crying?

"You went too far," her mother said. "We could not see you. We thought you had drowned."

This was why her sister was so upset, she thought Ziva was lost.

They thought the ocean had taken her.

A wave came from the horizon. It rolled closer to her. Then it broke. It's foam washed over her.

Ziva spluttered.

"Ima," Tali's voice called out. Her daughter was wearing her ruffled swimming costume. Her hair was soaked and matted to her head. Her face wore pure joy. "That was fun, let's do that again."

Ziva smiled at her daughter, as she pulled herself up. She took her daughter's wet hand. She licked her lips, and tasted the salt of the Mediterranean.

It was the same sea she had played in as a child. Her favourite memories had been made at the beach.

Ziva looked back toward the beach. She could see Tony, laying on the towels, his hat over his face.

"Let's go see Daddy first," Ziva suggested, as she took her daughters hand.

A wave crashed behind them. The foam spluttered.

Ziva woke with a startle. She took a few shallow breaths and took in her surroundings.

They were in Nice. In a white walled holiday apartment in a big complex of identical apartments. Identical apartments with other families trying to find some normality among the pandemic.

Tony had organised it so that the southern seaside city was their main base for most of their holiday.

It's easy enough to hop on a train, Tony said as he showed her the holiday apartment listing. One that had a minimum stay requirement. We can even go across the border to Italy, and to Monaco. Cannes is so close. There's so much we can do.

Ziva reached up to her forehead and wiped some sweat away. Her hands shook.

Tony let out a snore from his side of the bed.

She was glad she had not woken him.

Her breath hitched in her throat. Ziva could feel the prickling of her skin.

There would be no more sleep tonight.

She folded her fingers over her palms, and dug her fingernails into her palms.

She sucked in a deep breath.

1,2,3,4,5.

Then she let it out slowly. Like a deflating balloon.

It was just a dream, she reminded herself.

But, it felt so real.

She had not had one that bad for a long time.

She berated herself for having that half glass of wine with Tony as they watched the sunset.

The wine always made it worse.

Or maybe it was the fact that it was August. The nightmares were always worse in August.

Saleem had been at his worst in August. The heat made him angry.

She took in another shaky breath.

In and out.

Inhale and exhale.

It was just a dream.

Tony murmured in his sleep.

"Ziva," he called out.

He opened one eye and then the other.

She wondered how much he had heard.

Her nightmares were never quiet. He was so in tune with her.

"I am fine," she whispered, reaching out for his hand. "Go back to sleep."

He ran his hand over his face.

The room was filled with grey light.

"Promise?" he asked.

"Promise," she echoed. "Go to sleep, we have a big day tomorrow."

They were taking the train to Monte Carlo, because according to Senior it was unmissable.

Tony squeezed her hand, and then let it drop. He made a show of turning over, and let out a fake snore after thirty seconds.

She knew he would not go back to sleep until she did.

Love made her feel so guilty sometimes.

Ziva laid flat on her back, and counted Tony's fake snores. She timed her breaths.

In and out.

She fingered the pendant of her necklace and concentrated on her thoughts.

You are safe.

Tony is safe.

Tali is safe.

Tony let out a snore that sounded very realistic, and Ziva looked toward the door of the bedroom.

She had to get out of there.

To be vertical for a few moments.

She slowly untangled herself from the bedding, careful not to disturb Tony.

The floor was cool on her bare feet.

Focus on what you can sense, her therapist's voice echoed in her head.

The room smelt like the sunscreen that had spilled in the beach bag.

Ziva reached into the bedside table, grabbing her book, her journal and her new reading glasses.

She put the book back, knowing she had little chance of following the narrative in the book. Her thoughts were bouncing around. The journal was the main thing she wanted.

It had only been in her new peaceful life that she kept her journal in the same place she lived. In their Paris apartment it was hidden in a locked box under the bed. Not that she always remembered to hide it.

So far she remained it's only reader.

Ziva looked back at Tony. His outline of spine under the t-shirt he slept in. His ruffled hair, he looked like a porcupine.

You are safe.

Tony is safe.

Tali is safe.

She had to check on Tali. She had to make sure. The dream had been so real.

She pulled herself up, and walked out the door.

Tali was in the next room. On the bottom bed of a set of bunk beds. She was starfished over the bed, clutching Kelev in her arms.

Ziva leaned in the doorway and took in every inch of her daughter. Her suntanned legs sticking out of the duvet. There were tan lines from her sandals on her feet. She looked so peaceful when she slept.

Ziva counted the rises and falls of her chest. Like she had when Tali was a newborn, and ZIva was convinced that Tali would be taken away.

Because after everything she had done, she did not deserve a creature as perfect as Tali.

Ziva focused on her thoughts.

Tony was safe.

Tali was safe.

She was safe.

Ziva took in a deep breath, filling her lungs, she let it out slowly.

Tali stirred in her sleep, and Ziva stepped back.

Tali was insufferable when she had been woken up, and Ziva did not want to risk it.

Ziva padded along the apartment following a slither of light from one of the opposite apartments.

She placed her journal on the table.

She still felt the prickles in her skin. The anxiety lingered.

Before she really thought about it, she was standing in the windowless bathroom. She ran the water tap listening to it flow.

With cupped hands she splashed water onto her face. It splashed on her sleep shirt, but she did not care. The grey shirt, borrowed from Tony's side of their wardrobe, was already soaked with sweat.

"You are safe," she whispered to herself in front of the mirror.

Their bathing costumes were slung over the shower rail. Tali's pink ruffled one piece in between Tony's striped trunks and Ziva's sporty black one piece.

Tony had made it known that he missed the bikini, but she was a mother now.

Three more birthdays until she was forty.

Three birthdays away from being older than her mother ever got to be.

She splashed water on her face again. It was cool, but not refreshing.

She stepped out of the bathroom and looked towards the master bedroom. Tony was staying away.

They had talked about this, during those short winter days while Tali was at school. He had witnessed a bad anxiety attack, when there had been a loud bang on the street outside.

A car with a faulty exhaust that sounded like other things.

Tony had tried to comfort her, but it was smothering. She needed to focus on herself, and not worry about how she was affecting him.

They came up with a plan, because they talked about things now, he was to stand on the sidelines and wait for Ziva to initiate comfort.

The conversation had seemed like it might have been in vain because since then she had not had a bad attack. There had been difficult moments, especially during lockdown, but most crises were averted. She had her routine; her daily exercise, early bedtime, and an hour or so each day to herself.

She had been doing so well.

She tried to work out what had been her undoing. The day had been good, the three of them at the beach, Tali had been happy making sandcastles, Tony had gotten sunburnt, and Ziva had felt the warm sun on her face and read her book.

Had it been the smell of cigarettes as they were walking back from the beach?

Had it been that wine she and Tony shared, for the second night in a row?

Was it because her mother's birthday was coming up? How old would she be now?

She stood in front of the dining table, but did not sit. She was not ready to open the journal, and try to explore it all.

It was too close to the surface.

She needed some fresh air.

The sliding door to the balcony reminded Ziva of her childhood apartment. A tinderbox in the sky. Her parents' loud voices. Her mother's sobbing when she thought everyone else was asleep. Ziva, her mother, and her sister singing pop songs in the kitchen, because her father was away, again.

She slid the door open slowly, and took a deep breath.

The air was not fresh.

It was filled with smoke, both tobacco and less legal substances. There was also the syrupy smell of spilt alcohol.

They had seen a group of teenagers check in at the reception, when they had come back from the beach. The teens had congregated by the swimming pool, playing music and being loud. The party had fizzled out quickly, before Tony and Ziva had to worry about trying to get Tali to sleep.

Ziva took another deep breath. Ziva could taste the salt from the sea that was two blocks away.

"You are safe," Ziva said to herself.

And, slowly she started to feel safe.

From the balcony, six floors up, Ziva saw a man weave between the apartment buildings. Judging by his speed he was jogging. Not running as if there was urgency, but methodical jogging.

When she was on the run, running had been the main way she managed her anxiety. A jog was a good way to survey a new city, and an easy way to organise drops.

Her therapist had explained to her that her de facto strategy made sense. Anxiety produced cortisol, that was the flight and fight response, even if she was not running from the actual threat, running helped her reduce the cortisol in her system. She had to break the cycle, or the cortisol would linger and leave permanent damage.

Once, she had run past a city park Tony and Tali liked to frequent. With sunglasses and a wide brimmed cap she had gotten within a few feet of the most precious people in her life.

She had been so close, but so far.

Under her sunglasses, her eyes had welled up with tears.

As much as she wanted to run right now, she would not. That had been part of the conversation she and Tony had about what to do if things got bad, there was no running away.

She would get up early the next day, and go for a long jog perhaps along the sandy beach. Then she would come home and make Tali breakfast. Then they would go to Monaco, and take lots of pictures for Tony's father.

She had fought for this life, and she was going to live it.

She took more focused breaths and moved her shoulders.

There would be no more sleep that night.

She heard shuffling in the living area and turned around to see Tony standing in by the sliding door.

He held up his hands in defense.

"I know you want to be alone," he said as he walked toward her. "I just had to make sure you were okay."

A warm feeling washed through her.

He loved her.

He cared about her.

"I am okay," she said softly.

Tony leaned on the railing of the balcony. There were goose pimples on his arms.

"Okay," he said, "because I don't think I was gonna be able to go back to sleep until I checked."

She knew where this came from.

He had not been able to save his mother.

He needed to be able to save her.

She moved closer to him, and wrapped her arm around him.

"Did I wake you?" she asked. "With my episode?"

The word episode burnt her throat.

Was it really the best descriptor?

Nightmare seemed too flippant. Tali had nightmares, but she was soothed simply by waking up and a cuddle.

Anxiety attack seemed too clinical. She still bristled against the pathologizing of her life. The diagnosis that was spoken in the therapist's office had hurt when it was first uttered.

"Yeah," he said. "Toward the end of the nightmare. I was going to wake you up, but you woke yourself up. It's been a while."

"It has," she admitted.

"Any idea what-," he started, then took a deep breath. "You know, triggered it."

"Not really. They get worse in August," Ziva said. "The nightmares, and the attacks. I do not know if it is because of the heat or something else."

His back tensed up.

"Do you wanna go home?" he asked. "We could leave in the morning, and be back in Paris for bed time."

Ziva shook her head. She would not ruin this trip for him.

"No," Ziva said softly. "I suspect this would have happened wherever we were. Those memories are not confined by geography."

He swallowed thickly.

He only knew parts of the story of the summer, and what he did know made him angry.

"That number you asked me to put in my phone-" he started, his voice breaking.

That number was an emergency number for psychiatric care. For if things got really bad.

One of the first things she and her therapist had made a care plan for the worst case scenario. What Ziva wanted to happen if she became unable to make decisions for herself.

The planning reminded Ziva of the birth plan her midwife had encouraged her to make. Her only plan had been for both her and the baby to come out alive, and for her to be left alone if the baby did not make it. Because she was so convinced that would happen.

The plan she had made with her therapist stated that she would like to avoid inpatient care, but if she became a danger to herself or her family she would accept inpatient care.

If she ever became a danger to them she would never forgive herself.

Tony had an emergency number stored in his phone, and Ziva had a business card in her wallet.

"I hope we never have to use that," Ziva declared.

"Me too," he said.

They stood quietly for a few seconds.

"May I have a hug?" Ziva asked.

It felt ridiculous, but it was part of the process.

The coming out from the shadows and into the light.

Tony stepped back and opened his arms. Ziva wrapped her arms around him. The hug was tight.

It was a comfort for both of them.

"Thank you," she whispered into his chest. "For being so patient."

"Like I was gonna do anything else," he said, as he tucked a curl behind her ear.

The hug slowly broke, but they stayed connected with their hands interlaced.

"We can have a quiet day tomorrow," Tony said. "Or rather today. Dad said Monaco is unmissable but if you're not up for it, we can go to the beach again. Tali likes the beach."

They had already paid for the train tickets.

"No," Ziva said, shaking her head. "I will be fine. I am not going to let this ruin our trip."

"We don't have to decide now," he said. "We can play it by ear."

"Okay," Ziva said, relenting. She was glad for the slack he was giving her.

Tony stifled a yawn with his hand.

"You should go back to bed," Ziva said softly.

"Let's go," he said.

"I need a little longer," Ziva said. "If I went to bed now, I would just be tossing and turning."

Disappointment flicked across his face for just a second. He liked having her close.

"Okay," he said. "You gonna write for a bit?"

"I think so," she said. "It helps sometimes."

Tony nodded.

"I can't believe we worked together for eight years and I never knew about your journals," he said. "If Ellie hadn't found your secret cabin, I probably wouldn't have known until you came back to us."

"Nobody knew," she said. "Besides if you had stumbled across them when we worked together, you probably would have looked through them."

He looked down at his feet.

Even if the grey of the night, she could see the pain in his face.

She could be so cruel sometimes.

"You're probably right," he said as he looked toward the sea. "But, I wouldn't do that now."

She knew that. She trusted him.

"I know," she said softly. "You are a different man now."

He was older now. More mature.

Maybe he had evolved, or maybe he had just let the hidden parts of himself out.

"Yeah," he said. "And we talk now, about everything. Even the scary stuff."

There had been so many big talks over the last few months.

"We do," Ziva said. "It was low of me, implying that you would read my diary. It is just you were always snooping around. When you thought I had a date, or when I was seeing someone."

When she was trying to buy tickets for the opera, and when Shmeil visited.

"Because I was afraid," he admitted. "I was afraid that I'd missed my chance, or hurt you too much to have a chance. Even when you weren't seeing someone, I was afraid that if I put myself out there, that you'd reject me."

Tony DiNozzo would always be the little boy pulling at girls pigtails to get their attention.

Tony DiNozzo would always be the little boy, trying and failing to get his father's attention.

Tony DiNozzo would always be the best man she ever knew.

"We made such a mess," she murmured.

That was why she pushed Nick. She wanted to save him and Ellie from the same fate.

They had lost so much time.

He chuckled slightly.

"We did," he said with a sigh.

Ziva took his hand, and squeezed it.

"I am glad we worked it out," Ziva said. "Eventually."

He squeezed back.

"Yeah," he said. "We should go back inside. It's cold out here."

She nodded, and pulled at the sliding door.

"You know Ellie offered to send your journals to me," Tony said as they crossed the threshold. "When they found them in that lady's cabin, and when they thought she was just a sweet old lady, not some sort of super spy."

Tony only knew a little about Odette.

Ziva would take some of Odette's secrets to the grave.

And, Odette would do the same for her.

"Odette," Ziva corrected. "And, she would not like you calling her an old lady."

Tony smirked.

"I'd like to meet her one day," he said softly. "Say thank you."

Ziva missed Odette too.

They exchanged the occasional email, with coded references to the training Odette was trying to organise with Ellie. Though lockdown and a busy caseload was getting in the way. Ziva sent less coded updates about the help she was getting, and the little girl who was happy to have her back.

Maybe, Ziva would be able to introduce the two of them when they returned to the U.S.

Ziva could imagine them all so easily, sitting on Odette's patio with ice tea. Tali playing with Odette's dog. The three adults talking about worlds Tali knew nothing about. From the outside it would look like any other gathering in a backyard.

"Anyway," Tony started. "I know Ellie devoured them like they were bestsellers, but I didn't want to."

"Ellie had her reasons," Ziva said.

She had asked her to protect her secret.

Ellie still felt she had big boots to fill.

"I know," he said. "And, she offered to box them all up and send them to me. Thinking that Tali would want them one day to understand you. I mean she still had to pretend that you were dead, and she didn't know that I knew that you weren't."

Ziva felt her stomach churn. There had been so many lies. So many secrets.

"Would you have shown them to Tali?" Ziva asked. "If you knew that I was definitely not coming home."

She could not bear to imagine a world where she was not able to come home to him.

"Well not right now," he said. "I know I haven't read them, but I figure they aren't bedtime reading."

"No," Ziva said. "They were never meant to be read. They were for me."

To help her make sense of everything.

"I would have told her about them," he said. "I would have let her see them, when she was older, maybe."

Ziva sucked in a deep breath.

"I am glad I get to tell her about my past myself," Ziva admitted. "That I can protect her from some of it, and I can explain my reasons."

Tali was so innocent, far more innocent than Ziva remembered being at six.

How could she ever understand why Ziva had put a bullet in her own brother's head?

How could Ziva explain that one bullet had caused so much pain, but also so much joy?

If Ari had not died, Tony would been nothing more than the random American man Ziva accused to having phone sex. Not the father of her child. Not the love of her life.

"Me too," he said. "I tried not to think about you not coming home, but I did sometimes. I wondered how I would talk to Tali about you. I would have wanted her to know who you were, but not just through my memories. I was kinda glad that we had the journals. I always wish I'd had some way to know my Mom as an adult, like a letter or something."

Ziva looked toward the diary on the table.

"My Mother kept journals," Ziva said. "She kept them in the top of the wardrobe. We found them after she died. I read some of them, my sister read all of them. The last journal always made me so upset. There were so many empty pages."

So much was unfinished.

Her mother had been here one day and gone the next.

Ziva had found the dusty journals in the farmhouse, when she was pregnant with Tali, and looked for her mother's guidance in the yellowed pages. She found nothing on babycare, but found a new understanding on her mother.

Rivka had been so young and so scared when she was pregnant. She barely knew her husband. Rivka had loved Ziva so much.

"I know it's not the same, but I always kinda wondered if my Mom wrote me letters," he said, "Like that Italian movie about the woman with cancer Netflix keeps recommending to us. I mean she knew that she wasn't getting better. I figured if she had written them, Dad either lost them, or nobody knew about them."

Ziva felt an ache in her chest.

He had been so young, when his mother died. Only two years older than Tali was now.

His age had still been measured in single digits.

"I wrote you both letters," Ziva said, her voice cracking. "They were hidden in Odette's cabin. Both Odette and Adam knew what they had to do if I was not coming home."

Tony rubbed his hand over his face.

"Please," he begged, looking up at the sky,. "I don't even want to imagine an alternative universe where you didn't come home."

The words in the letters came back to her.

I am sorry we never got our chance to be together.

Please do not stop living. Find love again. Be happy.

Tali, my daughter. Please know that you saved me.

"You do not have too," she said, trying to lighten the mood. "We get to annoy each other for the rest of our days."

He laughed.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you too," she replied.

He stifled another yawn.

"Go back to bed," she said softly. "We have to be up in a few hours."

"I know you still need some time to decompress," he said. "But, don't stay up too late. I've gotten used to sleeping next to you. I don't think I'll be able to sleep knowing you're not there."

For two people who had spent so long apart they had gotten used to sleeping next to each other very quickly.

"I just need a few more minutes," Ziva said, as a wave exhaustion washed over her.

The adrenaline was wearing off. It was a good sign. The come down.

"Take as long as you need," he said, as he placed a kiss on her cheek. "Night."

"Night," she said.

She waited until he had gone back to bed before sitting at the table. She opened the journal, and noticed it was on its last page.

It had been nearly nine months since she knocked on the door of the apartment not knowing what to expect.

Nine months since that taxi ride from the airport. The roads clogged because of the transport strike.

Nine months since she had asked Tony not to meet her at the airport. Her anxiety could not take it. She needed their first moments all together to be in private. She could not lose it in the airport.

Tony agreed reluctantly, saying that they did not know how Tali would react. So it would be best to do it in a safe place.

In the end there had been tears all around, and big hugs.

It was finally over.

They were finally free.

She flicked through some of the pages, her eyes resting on glimpses of the past few months. Of her worries for Tali, she worried for her so much, but what mother didn't. Of her love for Tony, it was different now, it ran even deeper. Of the strangeness of lockdown.

There was pain on those pages.

There was progress on the pages.

She folded down the last page, and recorded the date, and started to write.


	23. Waiting For The Leaves To Fall

Ziva smiled as her little family walked toward the park. It was September, Tali was back at school, and the mornings had started to have a chill on them. Ziva had started sorting through Tali's winter clothes to see if anything would still fit.

Autumn was Ziva's favourite time of year.

Tali whizzed past on her scooter, Ziva felt the word careful rise in her throat but it never came out. She had made a vow never to project her anxiety onto Tali.

Tony was next to her, a picnic blanket under his arm and a canvas tote bag hanging off his good shoulder. Ziva was carrying her backpack, stocked with more food than they could ever eat.

While Ziva enjoyed the cooler weather, with its crisp mornings and orange leaves, Tony was trying to hold onto every last slither of summer.

If he could stop time, he would.

The picnic, planned after they dropped Tali off for her third day of school for the year, was an attempt to extend summer.

He just wanted a few more moments.

Ziva and Tony reached the street corner where Tali was waiting. Her hair hanging out of her helmet, and clashing home clothes Tali had changed into during the ten minutes they returned to their apartment after school pick up. Her mask was still covering everything under her eyes.

Tali took her place between her parents. She offered one hand to Ziva and one hand to Tony. Each took a hand. Tony made a big show of checking the road for cars and cyclists. Ziva did the same.

A car with a dog hanging out the passenger window whizzed last. Then a school of bikes, middle aged men commuting home. Then a taxi with a woman wearing a black face mask looking longingly out of the window.

"Okay," Tony said, his words muffled by his mask. "Let's go."

They crossed the road as a unit. Mother, father and baby. The baby kept safe between her parents. Both of them would do anything to protect her.

They reached the other side of the road, and Tali let go of Tony's hand.

"Ima," Tali started. She clutched onto Ziva's hand.

Ziva knew what Tali wanted to talk about. Since they had returned to Paris after visiting almost every beach town from Nice to Montipeller, Tali wanted to reminisce.

She wanted to talk about the cable car they took in Toulon, and how it felt like they were flying.

She wanted to talk about that time they took a train and they were in Italy, and how Tony had bent down and touched the ground, telling Tali she was in the motherland.

But, Ima's from Israel, Tali had said as they walked into the town center, in search of Italian ice cream.

They ate ice cream almost every day when they were on holiday.

Tali wanted to talk about the castle they saw in Nantes. It was just like the movies. The castle visit had been a last minute addition to the itinerary, after Tali threw up on their way to Lyon. Tony had booked a bed and breakfast in Nantes as a surprise to both of his girls.

And, Ziva wanted to talk about all of it too.

She had loved their vacation.

She had loved holding Tali's hand as she splashed in the sea, the same sea Ziva played in as a child.

She had loved walking around Cannes with Tony, listening as he monologued about the Cannes film festival, and mentioned that he had always wanted to go to one of the big film festivals like Cannes or Sundance. Ziva would hold onto that. They might not be able to go to the Cannes film festival, but she might be able to surprise him with Sundance one year.

She had loved seeing Marseilles as a tourist rather than an operative. The seaside city was beautiful. She loved being able to share that with Tony, who had only ever visited the city for work as well.

Retirement looks good on us, he had said, as they walked back to their holiday apartment. Tali's sea soaked hair dripping down the dress they had hastily pulled over her bathing costume. Tony carried the three of the five bags it now required for the three of them to go to the beach.

It does, she had replied, as her sandals clapped on the cobblestones. She would not call it retirement, she would call it peace.

Ziva David was finally at peace.

And, the peace had been hard won.

There were still times where the panic snuck in, and tried to derail her.

The nightmares. The low lying depression, that she and her therapist thought might be related to her birth control. The fear that had washed over when a wave ripped Tali from her. Then Tali had appeared in front of her, with wet hair, and giggles.

That was fun, let's do it again.

Ziva had and would continue to fight for this peace.

"Ima," Tali said again, her words more urgent. The shuffled toward the park. Tali was dragging her scooter along, and Ziva could see paint flaking off.

"Would you like me to take that Motek?" she asked.

Tali nodded, and they stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. Tony, who was a few feet ahead stopped too, and looked at them.

His eyebrow was raised, trying to ask a question.

Ziva gave him a thumbs up and he started moving again.

Ziva lifted the scooter onto her shoulder, glad that it was light.

She had a vision of the empty streets of Tel Aviv on Yom Kippur, and riding those empty streets on her bike. The wind in her hair, because she had deliberately 'forgotten' her helmet, and her mother was too busy to notice.

The high holidays were coming up soon. She would not be able to give Tali the same memories, but she would be able to share the holidays with her family.

She could not wait to do Rosh Hashanah crafts with Tali, on their dining room table, when the forecasted autumn rain fell. She could not wait for the glee on Tony's face when he realised that the holiday meant they had to eat sweet treats.

The thought of Yom Kippur did not cover the same heaviness that it did in previous years. She did not feel the need to atone for her whole life.

She had been forgiven by the people who mattered most.

One day she would forgive herself.

"Ima," Tali said again. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course," Ziva said.

Knowing that for now Tali's questions were about having an extra serving of icecream or the wider world.

Why do cats meow?

Is the sky sad when it rains?

How old is Daddy?

"What was yours and Daddy's wedding like?" Tali asked.

They were walking through the gate to the park, and Ziva stopped still.

She hadn't been expecting that.

Tony was waiting for them under the tree Tali had declared their favourite tree during their last visit. He had started to lay out the picnic.

Ziva knew where this wedding talk was coming from. So many of the movies Tali watched had an animated wedding as the final scene, and Tali's current best friend Sabine had been in her Aunt's wedding over the summer.

Ziva had never been that little girl. She wanted to play soldiers. Her mother had taken her to a wedding once, when Ziva was a little older than Tali, and during the sit down meal Ziva had been bored out of her mind. Tali's namesake had been more impressed by the pretty dresses and music.

"We are not married," Ziva declared.

A strange sad feeling washed over Ziva as the words came out of her mouth.

If only she had gotten on the plane with him.

Maybe they would be married now.

She wondered what her finger would look like with a gold ring.

"But," Tali stammered. "I'm six."

Six. The tiny baby that saved her the minute she was placed in her arms, was six.

"Yes you are," Ziva said. "You are a big girl."

They reached Tony, who had laid out their picnic, sandwiches with lettuce hanging out. His mask pulled under his chin.

"Did you and Daddy get a divorce?" Tali asked, as she sat down, and took her mask off. Ziva did the same, and watched other people in the park in their own bubbles revealed their faces to take sips of water or careful bites of food.

Tony bit into his sandwich, and raised his eyebrow.

Where had Tali picked up that word?

"What makes you think that?" Tony asked, his mouth still full.

"Flora says when Mums and Dads don't live together it's because they are divorced," Tali said. "She lives here with her Ima, and her Dad lives in London. She gets the train that goes under the sea to see him. She hasn't seen him in a while."

Ziva's heart broke for Tali's school friend. A little girl who knew too much of the adult world.

"We took that train once," Tony said, trying to distract Tali. "To see Abby."

Tali was not so easily distracted.

"But Ima didn't live with us," Tali said. She was getting angry. Her little hands were balled into fists.

Ziva reached for Tali and took her hand. She flattened Tali's fist.

"I know," Ziva said, "I missed you very much when I was not here."

Tali looked down at the sandwich Tony had laid out for her.

"Why?" Tali asked. "Why didn't Ima live with us? You don't fight like Flora's parents."

"No," Tony said. "Ima and I love each other very much, and we have for a long time."

"And we love you most of all," Ziva added.

"We talked about why Ima had to be away," Tony said. "She had to do some important work to keep us and some other people safe."

It was an oversimplification, but Tali was only six, and their story was so complicated.

Tali picked at her sandwich.

"But, why aren't you married?" Tali asked. "When the Prince and Princess love each other very much they get married. You said you love each other lots and lots."

Ziva looked at Tony with an eyebrow raised.

They had been trying to limit the princess movies that Tali saw, but both of them were powerless when Tali whined.

"Yeah," Tony said, with a sigh. "That's usually what happens in the movies, but life isn't always like the movies."

Ziva shot Tony another look.

"But, Moms and Dads are married," Tali said. "They get married and they have babies."

"You do not have to be married to have a baby," Ziva said, "It is nice, but not required. We are not married, but we are still your Ima and Daddy."

"And you love each other very much," Tali uttered, checking in, "And me most of all."

Tali bit into her sandwich.

"That's it," Tony said, as he took a bite of his sandwich. "Besides, maybe one day Ima and I will get married."

Tali's eyes went wide.

"Really?" she asked.

"Yes, really?" Ziva said.

They had a six year old, they were far beyond white dresses and arguing about cake samples.

Ziva had never been the little girl who dreamed of her wedding.

Tony had always seemed so adverse to commitment.

"Yes, really," Tony said, "Not right now, but maybe one day."

One day.

Ziva had never depended on happy endings.

"I could be your flower girl," Tali said, "Sabine was her Aunt's flower girl, she got to wear a pretty dress."

How different Tali was from Ziva as a child?

At six Ziva had mud on her dress, and slowly realising that her father was not the man she thought he was.

Tali would never have to come to such a realisation.

Tony would always be her hero.

"Yeah, you could be," Tony said. "We'd get you a very pretty dress."

"But Ima's dress would be prettier," Tali said, "The bride always wears the prettiest dress."

"Yes, they do," Tony said.

Ziva thought of the wedding picture her own mother kept. Rivka and Eli David, standing under a chuppah, happy faces surrounding them. The camera was angled so that Rivka's midriff was hidden. Ziva was already on her way when her parents married.

"What type of dress would you wear?" Tali asked.

Ziva blinked a few times.

Could a mother wear a white dress?

Could a woman who was nearly forty wear something strapless?

"I have never thought about it," Ziva said delicately, "But, I am sure if the time comes, you will help me find a lovely dress."

Most women have their mothers with them, but Ziva would have her daughter.

It would be such a strange scene.

Tali finished her sandwich, and looked toward the play area. This tree was their favourite because it had a perfect view of the playground.

Tali liked to be able to see her parents at all times.

"Can I play?" Tali asked.

Ziva took a careful bite of her sandwich.

"Yeah," Tony said, as he took her plastic plate and put it under his. "You know the system."

Ziva pulled a small bottle of hand sanitiser from the backpack, and squeezed some of the liquid onto her daughters waiting hands.

Tali rubbed her hands together, and they made a squelching sound. The hand sanitizer smelt like cheap alcohol.

Tony pulled Tali's mask from under her chin, and placed it over her mouth and nose tenderly. He bopped her little nose, and she laughed.

Ziva felt that same discomfort she always felt when she saw her daughter in the butterfly print fabric.

How had this become normal?

"All right kiddo," Tony said, "Go have fun, and when we come to get you, playtime is over. Deal."

"Deal," Tali said, as she ran off.

Ziva watched as Tali reached the playground. She studied the other kids, a little boy in a mask with a turtle print, and a pair of twins in matching flower masks.

What a mad world they were living in?

Tony reached into the bag with the food, and picked out one of the boxes, his face fell as he saw the box contained cut up pieces of fruit.

"The cookies are in my bag," Ziva declared, knowing exactly what Tony was looking for.

"Shall we sneak a couple while Tali is busy?" he asked.

Tali was playing with the boy in the turtle mask, a woman waved at Tony and Ziva, and Ziva assumed the woman to be the boy's carer. Under the mask, you could not tell whether she was a mother or a nanny.

They were close enough for Tali to see them eating.

Ziva handed Tony her backpack, and he pulled at the zip, quickly he produced the sleeve of cookies, opened them, and distributed them.

Crumbs fell onto Tony as he ate. Ziva took a small bite from the cookie. She did not love these cookies, brought from the discount supermarket Tony drove out to every few weeks, but she liked sharing them with Tony and Tali.

"Did you mean what you said?" she asked.

She took another nibble on the cookie, and looked at her bare ring finger.

"About what?" he asked.

"Getting married," she said. Her eyes followed Tali, she was going up and down the slide. Her mask was still on.

Ziva's own mask rested under her chin.

Tony's stylish black one, was around his neck like a scarf.

What a strange world?

"Yeah, I did," Tony said. "I want us to get married one day."

Ziva felt a breath hitch in her chest.

The ketubah, the ring, the dress.

Once when she was pregnant, and each night was filled with the strangest dreams, Ziva had dreamed of her and Tony getting married. Ziva's belly round with child in a flowy white dress. Tony holding her hands as they stood under the chuppah.

Then the dream turned nasty. Tony was holding the baby in his arms, with a bag slung over his shoulder.

It is for our safety, we are not safe here, not with you.

She caused nothing but pain. People had to be kept away from her.

"Why?" Ziva asked.

They already had a child, and a home. They were partners in all aspects of life.

"Why?" he echoed.

"Yes why," Ziva said, "We already live like we are married, what would a wedding change?"

Tony chomped into another cookie.

"The ship has left the port," Ziva said. "That is the saying, yes."

"Sailed," he corrected. "The ship has sailed. I know we're not doing things in the traditional order, but I do wanna marry you one day. Not because I want something to change, but because I want to stand up in front of all of our favourite people and tell them how much I love you, and how I want us to be together until my last breath. Because you're totally going to outlive me, and it's kinda selfish but I don't think I could take losing you for real."

Still waters run deep.

"People know that we are together," Ziva said. "We know that we love each other, and will love each other until the end."

Tony nodded.

"Yeah, but I just really want to be able to say you are my wife," Tony said, "Maybe, it's not the best reasoning, but marriage feels official, and after all these years of secrets and pretending, I want something official. I want to be able to say, this is my wife Ziva."

"Do you think I will leave again?" she asked.

Did he want to keep her close.

"No," he said, "You wouldn't do that to Tali."

"Or you," Ziva said. "I would not want to hurt you."

Tony ate another cookie. Ziva looked at the sleeve, and wondered if they would have to pretend to Tali that they never had the cookies.

"I know that marriage shouldn't be so important to me," he said, "I mean Dad didn't show me the best examples growing up. I lost count of the number of times I called a step mother by the wrong name. And, after what happened in Baltimore, I spent a long time thinking the marriage wasn't for me."

Ziva's heart hurt for Tony, almost two decades younger than he was now, ready to make the biggest commitment only to have it all fall apart just before he made the leap.

"My parents did not have the most healthy marriage," Ziva said.

She thought of her parents wedding picture, her mother looked like a deer in headlights, not knowing what she had signed up for.

Her mother had known her father for exactly eleven months before they got married, and he had spent at least three of those months away.

I am a mistress kept on the lurch for years, Rivka had written in her diary, This country will always be his first love. I will never compare.

"If we got married," Tony said, "We wouldn't be like our parents."

They did not parent like their parents either.

"I know," she said.

Tali turned to look at her parents. She waved. Ziva waved back, Tali ran back toward the slide.

"So when would you like to do it?" Ziva asked. She made it sound so clinical, like they were planning to clean the fridge or book Tali in for a dentist appointment.

Tony chuckled softly.

"Generally someone has to propose first," he said, "Usually it's the guy, but it's 2020 so that's not a big deal."

"Has this not been a proposal?" Ziva asked.

Tony shook his head.

"This has been a discussion," Tony said, "A declaration of intentions."

"So it is all hypothetical?" she asked.

"Not exactly," he said, "I've been thinking about this for a while, and was gonna bring it up eventually, Tali just jumped the gun."

Tali had forced both of them to do so much. So much growth. So much change.

"How long have you been thinking about it?" she asked.

"Well it was always part of the plan," he said, "Once you could come out of the shadows, I was gonna make sure I put a ring on it. I just wanted us to be settled, and the whole global pandemic slowed things down, but I've been working on the actual practical aspects of the proposal for a few months now."

Butterflies danced in Ziva's stomach.

She had waited for another man's proposal once upon a time, but this was not like that.

This was not settling.

This was love.

She had never dreamed of white weddings or happy endings, but she wanted to marry him.

"We have never exactly followed a plan," Ziva said.

"No," he replied, "But, let me have this. I want to make it special. I want Tali to tell her future spouse about the time her Dad proposed to her Mom. I want a big story that you tell every time someone asks about the ring."

He wanted to do something special for her.

She would let him have this.

She watched as Tali waved from the top of the climbing frame. Then in slow motion she watched as Tali lost her footing and started to fall.

Tony's phone rang out. He wasn't looking.

Ziva's heart moved into her throat. She pulled herself up, and took the most direct route to the playground, careful to avoid other picnickers. She pulled her mask over her nose.

One of the other children, the boy in the turtle mask, offered Tali his hand, and because of him she did not fall. She held onto the rope climbing frame for dear life.

"Ima," Tali cried out, as Ziva walked toward them. Tali's voice was tinged with fear. "Ima, Daddy."

All Ziva could hear was Tali's panicked cries.

"I am here," Ziva said, as she looked at Tali. The mask that covered her face, and the tears that were starting to fall.

Ziva felt her own face redden.

"Do you want to come down?" Ziva asked. "We can go finish our picnic, Daddy brought those cookies you like."

The boy with the turtle mask had gotten down, and had run to his carer.

"Daddy looks sad," Tali announced from her perch.

Ziva turned and looked at Tony. He had his phone to his ear, and was pacing.

The panic twisted in her gut.

They knew too many people who put their lives in danger every day. It had only been six months since Nick had been hit by a car.

Ducky and Tony's father were at high risk for this virus that had changed their lives.

Abby was all alone in London.

There was too much that could go wrong.

"Let's go to him," Ziva urged, as she placed her hand on the rope of the climbing frame.

She looked toward Tali's friend who was talking with his mother. Ziva knew she should go and talk to the woman to be polite, but she did not have the energy for that.

She needed to get back to Tony. To get Tali between them, so that Tony and Ziva could put their hands together and protect Tali from all the horrors of the world.

"Okay," Tali said, as she tentatively navigated her way down.

She took Ziva's hand. Ziva felt that warmth she always did at her daughter's touch.

"Your hands are sticky," Tali declared.

Clammy, Ziva thought, remembering when she learnt the strange word in the apartment in the sky. She had been so confused, clams were some sort of sea creature, how could hands be like sea creatures.

She was so sure she would never understand English, it was such a strange language.

Now, she operated primarily in English. She dreamed mostly in English.

"It is still a little warm," Ziva said, as they marched toward Tony and their favourite tree. "My hands were warm."

Tali seemed satisfied.

"Did Daddy get strawberry or chocolate?" Tali asked.

Ziva blinked a few times, as they moved closer to Tony. His hand was resting on his face, and she could hear a snippet of his conversation.

"Sorry, what does that mean?" Tony asked.

"What?" Ziva asked.

"You mean pardon," Tali corrected.

"Yes," Ziva said, "I mean pardon. Why did you ask me about chocolate or strawberries?"

"The cookies," Tali said gleefully. "What flavour?"

Ziva tried to remember what flavour the cookies were supposed to be.

"Thank you doctor," Tony said, his voice carrying from the other picnic goers. "Is he awake, can I talk to him?"

Ziva felt sick.

They had seen too many hospital waiting rooms.

She wondered who was in that hospital bed.

"Strawberry," Ziva declared. "The cookies are strawberry flavoured."

"Yay," Tali said, as she swung her and Ziva's arms. "They are my favourite."

Ziva smiled.

"I made sure Daddy did not eat them all," Ziva said, as they reached Tony.

He was sitting on their picnic blanket, with his head in his hands.

"Daddy," Tali called out as she let go of Ziva's hand and ran toward Tony. Tali wrapped her arms around Tony.

"Hey munchkin," he said, looking up at her. "Did you have fun?"

"Yeah," Tali said, as she untangled herself from Tony and sat down next to him. "Ima said there are cookies."

Tony handed her the sleeve of cookies, and Tali started to eat them.

Ziva's phone vibrated in her pocket. Usually she did not bother with the phone when she was with them. Most of the notifications were junk. The people who mattered most were right there with her.

Tony pointed to his phone, in his hands, and Ziva plucked her phone from the pocket of her pants.

Tony: I need you to put your best Mossad face on. No emotion.

Tony's phone pinged.

Ziva: What has happened?

Tony: I'm serious. Tali can't know anything. Best Mossad Ninja face.

Ziva knew Tali picked up on their moods know matter how much they tried to hide from her.

Tony's phone pinged again, and he pressed the button to make it go silent.

Ziva: Ok. Now, tell me.

Tony: Dad's in the hospital.

Ziva felt the wind go out of her.

This virus.

They were so far away.

Tali's crumbs spilled onto the picnic blanket.

"Ima," Tali asked. "What's your favourite flavour?"

Tony looked at Ziva.

Act normal, he mouthed.

"Blueberry," Ziva answered quickly.

Ziva: ?

Tony: He fell in the shower. His apartment has alarms for that stuff. He pressed a button, now he is at the hospital.

Ziva: Is he okay?

Tony: . . .

"Do they make blueberry cookies?" Tali asked.

"I do not know," Ziva said. "We will have to look out for them next time we go to the store."

Tony: No breaks. No concussion. They're keeping him for observation. He was asleep. I told them to make sure he calls me when he's awake, I don't care when.

Ziva: Okay. I am glad he is okay.

She took some deep breaths. Yoga breaths.

Tony: Me too. It's just he's all alone in there.

Ziva reached behind Tali and grabbed Tony's hand. She squeezed it. He squeezed back.

Ziva: It will be okay.

And, she hoped it would be.


	24. Apples Dipped In Honey

Ziva pulled the key from the lock of the door, and looked toward the couch. Tony was asleep, his feet poking out from the end of the sofa. The new throw blanket she had brought as soon as the mornings started to have a chill, pulled over his torso.

He looked so peaceful when he slept.

Ziva balanced her bike helmet and the shopping, and carefully stepped through the door. Her eyes focused on Tony, watching as his chest rose and fell.

Then she lost her grip on the door and it slammed loudly.

So much for letting him sleep.

Ziva dropped her shopping. A can of tomatoes squashed the bread she had brought.

Tony woke with a startle.

"On your six, boss," Tony called out as he sat up, and looked around their apartment.

Ziva felt a smirk wash over her. She would not let him live that down.

"Sorry," she said, as she hung up her helmet and jacket and bent down to see if the bread was salvageable.

Tony got up from the couch. His hair stuck up, and Ziva was reminded of her second arrival at NCIS, where she hoped to stay, when Tony treated the space behind his desk like his bedroom.

She had thought him just a playboy then. A man too busy chasing women to go home.

Now, years later she understood that he never took lady friends back to his house. He needed his sanctuary. A safe place because he hadn't always had one.

"Hi," Tony said with a smile as he stood above her.

He was still wearing his stained pyjama bottoms and a ratty OSU t-shirt. Ziva was planning to get Tony new pyjamas for Christmas.

"Hi," she said, as she handed him the squashed bread, and pulled herself up.

He offered out a hand, but she did not need it.

Tony cradled the bread like a baby, and looked her up and down.

"What time is it?" he asked.

Ziva balanced the shopping bag and started moving toward the kitchen.

"Nearly two," Ziva said. "My sessions are later now."

Her therapy sessions had moved to Wednesday's just before Tali's birthday, when she went down to one session. Since they had come back from their vacation, the time of the sessions had changed as well. The hour made a difference, it meant the walk to school with Tali was less rushed. It meant Ziva was still able to have an hour afterwards to decompress.

On most days, both Tony and Ziva walked Tali to school. Tali holding each of her parents hands, and jumping in puddles, or looking at all the dogs that went past them. The usually forty minute walk often took much longer.

Tali really wanted a dog.

"Yeah," he said, as he ran his hand through his hair. "I didn't mean to sleep so long."

They reached the kitchen, and Ziva placed the shopping bag on the counter.

"Your father?," Ziva asked carefully. "He is okay, yes?"

She emptied the shopping bag, putting the cans in the cupboard and placing Tali's after school treat in the fridge.

They spoiled that child, but they would not change a thing.

"Yeah," he said, "The ECG was okay, they think it was anxiety. I suppose being in a hospital right now must be pretty scary. Dad said it was the pretty nurse making his heart skip a beat."

Tony made a show of rolling his eyes.

Ziva made a show of rolling her eyes in solidarity with Tony, but she hoped the old man never changed.

"I know I said I'd let you know," Tony said, "I crashed right after the doctor called. I'm sorry."

They had both been woken a few minutes before midnight by a ringing phone. The late night call had been an intrusion on their new quiet life.

Tony's face had dropped when he saw the international phone number.

Senior, who was still in the hospital after his fall at home, was having heart issues. The doctors were going to continue to observe him, and do at battery of tests in the morning.

Neither of them had been able to go to sleep after that phone call. Ziva was used to these sleepless nights, and planned to wait it out. Tony tossed and turned. Then he pulled his phone from the nightstand and started googling all the big doctor words.

Ziva had been the one to suggest that they make something to drink, thinking brewing the chamomile tea would be a distraction.

Tony had jumped at the chance to do something useful, and had gotten up.

I just feel so far away, he had said from the doorway.

She waited in the bedroom for a little while, and when there was no sign of him coming back with the tea, Ziva had gotten up.

She found him on the couch with his phone looking up more of the long doctor words.

And, so she sat. Pulling the throw over her legs. She sat in solidarity.

Go back to bed, he whispered, I'm okay here. I promise.

She ignored the guilt that kept trying to wash over her, and went back to bed. She expected to spend the rest of the night tossing and turning, but sleep came to her easily. She woke up to Tali shaking her awake at an ungodly hour.

Why is Daddy on the couch?

"How was Tali this morning?" he asked.

Tali had known something was up, as soon as they left the park. Daddy was taking lots of phone calls, and Ima was looking around a lot.

They had eventually explained to Tali that her beloved Pop-Pop was in the hospital. They had assured her that he was okay, and the doctors were keeping an eye on him.

Tali had taken it rather well, and had started to make get well soon cards for him. They sent them to Senior via photos on their phone, so the old man would get them when he needed them most.

"She was okay," Ziva said, as she thought of the hurried walk to school, and all of Tali's questions. "She was more concerned about you sleeping on the couch. She said her friend Flora said her Dad slept on the couch before he moved out for good."

Tony grimaced.

Ziva knew exactly where his mind was going. Tali's new friend knew too much about the world.

"She's still talking about that," he said, with a sigh. "Doesn't she know that I'm never gonna let you go."

They had been through too much to chuck it all in now.

"Yes," Ziva said softly. "She is trying to make sense of the world. We have to let her work it all out."

Every time Tali brought up her classmate's separated parents, Ziva let her talk. Then Ziva assured Tali that both of her parents loved her, and that they were very happy together.

But, will you still be happy together next year or after that? she asked during a slow walk home from school.

We cannot know for sure, but Daddy and I are working hard to stay happy, Ziva said, being happy is hard work, you know.

I don't find it hard to be happy, Tali replied, as they stopped to admire the flowers at the florist.

Ziva hoped Tali would always be so easily happy.

When you are grown up, Ziva said, it is harder to be happy.

They stepped into the flower shop, Ziva deciding that the dining room table needed something to brighten it up.

You should get married, Tali replied as she gravitated toward the pink flowers. She loved everything pink, So I can wear a pretty dress, and you and Daddy will be happy forever.

"I know," Tony said, "It just freaks me out when she talks like that. Can't she stay little forever?"

Ziva laughed.

That was a losing battle.

Tony opened the paper bag the bread came in, and ripped off the end of the soft baguette.

"I know she can't," he said. "I just want to protect her from all the scary stuff. I want her to always be happy."

Ziva reached over the counter and ripped off a small piece of baguette. The bread was soft and airy.

Tali called this bread cloud bread.

"We can be there for the scary stuff," Ziva said. "She will have us as her safe place."

They would make the home that neither of them had as children.

"I know," he said as he looked down at the counter. "I think all this stuff with Dad has brought up some stuff."

She reached for his hand and squeezed it, inviting him to keep talking.

"Do you know he had a minor heart attack in the nineties?" Tony said. "That's why the doctors were so cautious this time. The doctor was the one who mentioned the heart attack, I didn't even know."

There was no way Ziva would have ever known about the heart attack. She had only ever done dossiers on Gibbs immediate team, and all she had known about Senior is that he dealt in art and property, and was estranged from his son.

Senior also had a very slim Mossad file, due to his association with some low level arms dealers who had an interest in fine art. No doubt the file was much thicker now due to Tony's entanglement with Ziva.

"I know we weren't really talking then," Tony continued, "But, we've been building bridges for a decade now, and he never mentioned it."

She wondered if Tony had told Senior about every bullet graze, shoulder bump and near miss.

Senior had only found out about Tony's brush with the plague because Gibbs told him.

"I know that our estrangement was both of our faults," Tony continued, "But, I don't ever want that with Tali. I want us to be the parents she calls every day from college. McGoo said Delilah called her Mom like five minutes after she found out she was pregnant they talk every day. I want that with Tali."

Ziva was not really sure if Tony and Senior could shoulder equal blame for their estrangement. From Ziva's point of view the scales of blame were weighted toward Senior.

He had been the one who dumped Tony in boarding schools and vanished.

"We have a long time before she goes to college," Ziva said.

She hoped to graduate college herself before then.

Her google search history was littered with visits to some of most prestigious universities in the DC area, sometimes Ziva read the course descriptions and imagined herself in a wood panelled lecture hall reading big books, and learning about the world.

She had always wanted to go to university, but the woes of the world had seemed more urgent when she was a teenager.

She needed to save the world and did not care if she had to sacrifice her life to do that.

Sometimes the best way to get something done is to live in the shadows, her father had once told her.

"I know," he said. "It's like I said, all this stuff with Dad, has brought up a lot."

He felt so far away.

"Do you still want to go to him?" Ziva asked.

Tony shook his head.

When the doctors kept extending how long they were keeping Senior in the hospital for, Tony and Ziva had started to talk about Tony going to visit him.

Normally, the conversation would be purely one of expense. They had enough money for a comfortable life, though as neither of them worked, they were cautious with their pennies.

But this year, it was different. There was an extra element to the conversation. The virus. Tony with his scarred lungs would be flying into the epicenter of the pandemic.

Getting back would prove a problem. Tony had a visa to live in Paris, but it was nestled in an American passport.

Immigration agents had the right of refusal.

Even if Tony managed to get back into France, he might face a two week quarantine in a hotel.

They had talked about Ziva going instead, as a sort of proxy, but that conversation had been nipped in the bud pretty quickly, they both knew Tali would freak out if Ziva was gone for an extended period.

If they went to Senior, it would have to be three of them, but Tali's school had been disrupted enough.

If the doctors' prognosis had been more serious they would be on the first plane out.

"He's okay," Tony said. "Me going to him would cause more problems than it would fix."

Ziva nodded.

"If you change your mind," she offered, "We could make it work."

She knew Tony did not like the idea of being separated from his family.

He and Tali had never been apart for more than a few hours since they came into each other's lives.

"It's okay," he said, "We'll be seeing him in the Spring."

Their plan, one like all plans made these days, was to go back to D.C for Tali's spring break. They would catch up with their loved ones, and start working out the details of their new life. They would investigate schools for Tali, and start house hunting.

Then when Tali finished school for the summer they would make the move.

They had told Tali about their plan explaining that they wanted to live closer to Pop-Pop and other people who loved them. They explained that if they moved Tali would be able to hang out with the McTwins and Tori in the flesh.

So far she had taken it well, but time would tell.

Tony had started putting out feelers with various federal agencies, indicating that this time next year he would be ready to reenter the world of work. He had been worried that he had been on the shelf too long to be offered anything good, but someone from almost every agency in the alphabet soup had reached out.

Ziva had started lusting over houses online, and all three members of the family had started talking about what they wanted in a house.

A big kitchen, and the house being in a walkable neighbourhood for Ziva.

A basement or second lounge that could become a movie room, and a reasonable commute to DC for Tony.

A big garden with room for a dog for Tali. She was also making a lot of noise about getting a dog, because they'd finally have the room for one.

"We will," Ziva assured him. "I miss him."

Tony looked up at her.

Ziva thought of her therapy session, where she had requested that she be able to keep her phone out, because her father-in-law was in hospital in the US. Senior was not technically her father-in-law, but any other description was too long winded, or left out Ziva's relationship with Senior.

She was fond of the older DiNozzo, she was worried for him, and she knew she would grieve if the doctors came back with bad news.

"Yeah, me too," he said. "I know we skype and stuff, but it's not the same. I feel so far away."

Ziva thought of one of the houses she had looked at, when they were trying to get a feel for where they might want to settle, it had been a big house with four bedrooms and an in-law suite above the garage.

Tony probably would not want Senior to live with them but maybe he could rent an apartment close to them. Ziva liked the idea of being close enough to check on him.

When Senior had been in Paris, he and Ziva used to go for long afternoon walks where they talked, Ziva wanted to continue their conversations.

"The Tony of ten years ago, wouldn't have believed it if you had told him that he would work it all out with Dad," Tony said.

"I think he would have been surprised by a lot of things," Ziva said.

Tony chuckled softly.

The existence of their six year old would have blown thirty nine year old Tony's mind.

"You know, I was really questioning whether going home was the right thing to do," Tony said, "You saw how excited Tali was when we dropped her at school last week. She's just so settled here, and she's got all her friends, but over the last few days I realised that it's the best for us."

Ziva gave him a soft smile.

She had similar doubts.

"We can come here for vacation," Ziva offered, "Once travel normalises again. Tim said the other day, he still wants to take Delilah to Paris, maybe we would be able to work something out where we come here together, and trade off looking after the children. The twins are a few years younger than Tali, yes?"

Four adults to three children was a good ratio, though Ziva would like it to be a little more even.

"They're three in a couple of months," he said. "I'm not sure how I feel about holidaying with McGoo, he'd probably wear a money belt."

Ziva smiled. In the early days when Tali still called out for Tony at night, and the words unsaid bubbled between Tony and Ziva, they spent a lot of time in cafes people watching. Paris was still filled with tourists, and Tony made a point of pointing out the American tourists who were wearing money belts.

It was a happy distraction.

"Maybe they would not want to travel with us," Ziva countered. "You can be quite annoying sometimes."

Tony smiled. Ziva watched as a smile rose through him, and his eyes lit up.

He had been so quiet these last few days. His head in two places, and now it seemed like he was coming back to her.

"They would be privileged to be shown Paris by the DiNozzo's," Tony said. "It would be quite the experience."

Ziva could so easily picture Tony and Tali taking the McFamily on a walking tour of their neighbourhood.

This is where they make the yummiest pastries.

This is where the cyclist went on the sidewalk and made Daddy spill the coffee, and he used bad words in French.

This is where Ima and I used to buy flowers from.

"Do you want me to change my name?" Ziva asked.

"Why would you change your name?" Tony asked. "You said all the paperwork to make you alive again was sorted."

"It is," Ziva said, "I meant when we get married."

He smiled. A huge smile.

"Do you want to?" he asked.

"I would rather not go through all the paperwork," Ziva said, "But, I know you are very traditional, and it may be easier with Tali, we always have to explain so much."

Anything to do with the school always required so much paperwork.

"I'm not that traditional," he said, "And I really don't mind if it's on all the paperwork, all that really matters is that I get to call you Mrs DiNozzo."

Mrs DiNozzo sounded so lovely coming from his lips.

"I am waiting for you to ask me," she joked.

She knew he had something fantastic planned.

"It's coming," he said, "One day, I'm gonna completely sweep you off your feet. I'll probably do it in front of Tali too, so she has this impossibly high standard for what a proposal looks like."

Ziva felt a warm feeling wash over her.

Tali would grow up seeing two parents who were in love and loved her.

Ziva was able to give her daughter something she never had.

"I am sure it will be lovely," Ziva said.

"It will be amazing," Tony said, "I promise. None of this proposing in an elevator like McShotgunwedding."

Ziva raised an eyebrow.

There was so much she had missed. Tony had filled in many of the blanks, but she got a few lines when she really needed a paragraph.

"He proposed in an elevator?" she asked.

"Not just any elevator," he said, "The NCIS elevator. Apparently he had this grand plan for a proposal that he had been working on for months, but couldn't wait. It was a few months after I left, and I guess making big plans and then doing something else is a bit of a theme for them."

Tony had been delicate when he talked about the proposal being not long after he left. Ziva knew her 'death' would have been part of the rush.

She had caused so much pain to so many people.

"And, they got married when they found out about the twins," Ziva said.

"Yeah, they'd been planning this big event in July, and then they found out Delilah was pregnant, they didn't know it was twins then. They found out it was twins like a month before the kids were born," Tony said, "Anyway, I guess it worked out well because McGroom ended up in Paraguay like a week later."

The scar in Ziva's risk throbbed.

I don't know if I should tell you this, Adam had said in the safe house in Mexico city, McGee and Gibbs were taken hostage in Paraguay.

"And, to be honest I was kinda glad," Tony said, "I didn't want to do a transatlantic flight with a toddler. I also didn't watch two people promise to be together in sickness and in health, when I didn't know where the hell you were, and couldn't talk to anyone about it. I was happy for them, but you know-"

"I am sorry," she said.

She caused so much pain.

So much hurt.

"It all worked out in the end," he said. "None of that matters now."

Ziva checked her phone, they still had time to walk to pick Tali up from school.

"So there has never really been a big team wedding," Ziva said, "Jimmy and Breena got married quickly because of the bombing, and Tim and Delilah got married in your apartment."

"With a dead body under the floorboards," he added.

Ziva grimaced, she knew this story but it still freaked her out.

She had slept in that apartment a day after her father died.

Shmeil had slept on that couch.

"Do you want a big wedding?" she asked.

He shook his head.

"We don't know that many people," he said, "And I don't wanna explain to the buddies I played pool with twenty years ago, that I have a six year old daughter and am only now getting around to marrying her mother."

"Do you worry about what people will think?" she asked.

Was he ashamed of her?

Shame was a cancer, it rotted you from the inside.

"No," he said, "It's just a lot of explaining. Besides, I almost had a big wedding once, and we all know how well that turned out."

Sometimes Ziva could almost forget that Tony had gotten down on one knee in front of another woman. It was the type of thing that might be cut when a book was adapted to a movie.

But, she knew what it must have taken for him to open up like that. To commit.

And, she knew it must have hurt like hell when it all fell apart.

"I would like a small wedding too," Ziva said. "Just the team, and your father."

Maybe Odette too.

Odette deserved to see the happy ending that she had helped along its way.

"It's gonna be hard explaining that to our bridesmaidzilla," Tony said. "She's very invested in the idea of us having a big white wedding."

"She can save all of that for her own wedding one day," Ziva said. "Besides, I think if we let her wear a pretty dress and let her have a say on the cake she will be satisfied."

"I hope you're right," he said.

"I would like a Jewish wedding," she blurted out.

"Okay," he said.

"You are okay with that?" she asked.

"Why wouldn't I be?" he asked.

"You are not Jewish," she said.

She thought of the parenting books under their bed, one of the titles was 'Raising a Jewish Child', and that had been brought long before Ziva came back to them. There had been picture books ordered from the website named after the rain forest that underpaid its workers. The history on YouTube was filled with Hebrew songs.

He had been trying so damn hard.

"No, but you and Tali are," he said, "And, it having a Jewish wedding is important to you, then it's important to me."

Tony had been the one who kept trying to organise a play date between Tali and Asher Rosenthal, because he thought Ziva and Sara might be friends. Ziva wanted to make more Jewish friends.

Tali and Asher would play together if asked too, but would never be best friends. Ziva and Sara on the other hand had managed to build a friendship. Tony and Sarah's husband Michael both followed the same college football team.

Sara Rosenthal had invited them to dinner for Rosh Hashanah. Ziva would spend the holiday dipping apple slices into honey with her daughter and partner either side of her, and new friends on the opposite side of the table.

It was a shame that they made new friends just as they were preparing to leave the city of lights.

"You really would not mind?" Ziva asked.

"No, I won't mind," he said. "I think we could have quite a beautiful wedding. We'll get married under a chuppah, Tali will wear a pretty dress, and all our favourite people will be there."

He made it sound so easy, and just maybe it would be that easy.

She moved out from behind the counter, and stood in front of him. She snaked her arms around his waist. She placed a kiss on his lips. He pulled her close.

"I cannot wait to marry you," he said, as the kiss ended.

They needed to get a move on if they were going to walk, rather than take the metro, to pick Tali up from school, but Ziva was in no rush.

They could have a few more quiet seconds.

"Neither can I," Ziva replied, as she went in for another kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not Jewish, so apologies if I got any of the Jewish stuff in this chapter wrong. 
> 
> Also, this chapter was written July(ish) so our favourite little family going to dinner with people probably goes against COVID advise at the time.


	25. Maybe, Baby?

Tony took Ziva's hand as they crossed the main road that led to their quiet little neighbourhood. They dodged cyclists that could not decide if they should follow the road rules for cars or pedestrians. Tony watched as the shops on the road woke up. The weird shoe shop that never seemed to never have any customers had survived the economic apocalypse caused by the virus. The coffee shop had people in suits lining up outside, their neighbourhood was littered with offices.

Tony looked at Ziva, it was only early October but she had already got one of the thicker winter scarfs out of the storage box under the bed. She had tried to get Tali into a winter coat that morning but Tali was having none of it.

He rubbed her hand, as they walked toward home.

They had the day to themselves, and were going to make the most of it. Tony wanted to show Ziva some houses they had been looking at. Rockville and Bethesda were a little further out from Ziva's ideal neighbourhood of Silver Spring but the houses were cheaper and it was still close to Rock Creek Park.

Tony was very much looking forward to dropping the equivalent of his Peoria PD paycheck in rent for an apartment with a closet for a second bedroom, even if he would miss the ease of being able to walk around the corner and get most of the essentials from various shops.

Tony was also hoping that he and Ziva might find time for a cuddle on the couch before they went to pick Tali up.

They reached the corner of their street. One of their neighbours walked past with a shopping bag and headphones.

Ziva tugged at his hand, and they crossed the little side street, walking away from home.

"Where are we going?" Tony asked, the words slightly muffled by his mask.

They turned the corner on the lane where they parked the car.

Tony was very much looking forward to parking his car in his own driveway and not dropping a pretty penny on parking permits.

"I want to talk to you. I wanted to do it in the park," Ziva said, "But, it is going to rain."

Tony looked up at the sky. It was grey and menacing.

Tali would want to splash in puddles when they walked home.

Tony would miss living close enough to Tali's school to walk her there.

They reached their car, and Ziva gestured for Tony to unlock it.

They had never bothered to get a set of keys for Ziva, she had driven the car only a handful of times, mostly during their road trip, but only for the short journeys.

"What are we going to talk about?" he asked.

He held the keys in his hand, but did not press the button.

Something tugged in his gut. Something was wrong.

Ziva had been quiet since she came back from her doctor's appointment the day before.

"This is where we talk about big things, yes?" she asked.

He looked around the narrow street, and pulled down his mask.

"We've talked about all the big things from the past, haven't we?" he asked.

They'd been doing so well. They had their routines. They had their plans to move home.

There was an engagement ring in a safe deposit box. Tony was planning to propose after Ziva's birthday.

Now, he wondered if all of that was built on a swamp and they were sinking.

"I want to talk about our future," Ziva said, "Can you unlock the car, please?"

Tony opened the car, and the dopp dopp noise echoed in the nearly empty street.

Ziva sat down in the driver's seat, and fiddled with the controls on the dashboard. She pulled her mask under her chin.

Tony took his seat on the passenger seat, and looked back to the empty car seat in the back seat, one Tali would be too big for soon.

"The future," he echoed, his mouth felt dry.

He wondered what grave news her doctor had given her.

She had already had more birthdays than his mother ever got.

He had only been a little older than Tali, when his Aunt put him in that black suit and held his hand at the funeral.

After everything they had been through, surely the universe would leave them alone for a while.

"Yes," Ziva said, as she turned slightly to face him. "I had a gynecologist appointment yesterday. The pill I am on does not agree with me."

This pill was the second one she had tried. The first one had given her killer headaches, and during lockdown she had a phone appointment with her doctor who told her to stop using it, and said they wanted to do a blood test before putting her on anything else.

The box in Tony's nightstand had been opened a few times during lockdown. It still made Tony feel like a college student, especially as they were creeping around trying not to wake Tali.

Once, lockdown ended, Ziva went to the doctor and got the new pill, but all was not well. She told him that this new pill gave her a low mood, and she had developed acne, something that she was not happy about.

Tony had figured that soon enough they would be dipping into the box in his nightstand again.

"Okay," he said.

"My doctor wants to try some longer term options," she continued, "Maybe an implant or the IUD."

Tony nodded.

He was not sure why she had read him in on this. He would support her with whatever she decided.

"Both of those last for at least three years," she said. "I have had the implant before, it works well with my body."

In three years they would be back in DC. Tali would be nine, probably bratty tween. He would be in his early fifties, probably with grey hair. Ziva would be more settled, and maybe a year or two into college classes.

They would definitely be married.

"Okay," he said. "You should get that, then."

Ziva looked out the windscreen, her eyes focused far away.

"I am not sure," Ziva said slowly.

He was not sure why they were talking about this. He would support Ziva in whatever she thought was best. It would not be much of a discussion.

"I could get the snip," he said quickly. "And I wouldn't be a baby, like McWuss."

Ziva rubbed her hands on her thighs.

"Oh," she said, as she pressed her hands onto her thigh and spread out her fingers. "That was not what I was going to say."

"What were you going to say?" he asked.

"I thought we could just not use anything," she said.

"Oh," he said, as he ran his hands through his hair. He tugged at the top of the strands.

He turned in his seat and looked at the back of the car. At Tali's booster seat. At the empty seat behind the passenger seat.

He tried to imagine an infant car seat in its place.

"You want to have another baby?" he asked.

He thought of Tali when he first met her. A month shy of two. Already walking and talking.

He had always wondered what she had been like as a tiny newborn. When he was sent pictures of the McTwins as newborns, he had put them next to photos of Tali, and tried to imagine Tali that small.

He had made peace with the fact that he would never know Tali as an infant, and that he would never parent an infant.

He got the now and that was what mattered.

"Well," Ziva said delicately. "I would like us to try to have another child."

He reached for Ziva's knee and touched it.

"Let's do it," he said, patting her knee.

Ziva's mouth opened slightly, and her eyes flirted around the car.

"Are you sure?" she finally asked.

"Yeah," he said.

"Literally, one minute ago you just offered to get a vasectomy," Ziva said, "And now you are agreeing to the exact opposite of getting a vasectomy."

Tony nodded.

"Yep," he said. "I guess I just didn't really know it was an option, now that I know it's an option I want it."

He thought again of Tali, and their first year together, when they were still getting used to each other. He thought of the snuggles in bed, when Tali was falling asleep. He thought of listening to her sing in the bath.

He wanted to do that all over again, with Ziva watching from the doorway.

He wanted to do all the baby stuff Jimmy and McGee talked about, sleepless nights and all.

He wanted Tali to have a sibling. So she would never be alone in this big scary world.

"Even if we do not use contraception it is not guaranteed that we would have another child," Ziva said.

He raised his eyebrows.

"We weren't even trying and we ended up with Tali," he said.

Ziva chuckled slightly.

One of the many things they had worked out, once Ziva was back with them, was how exactly they had ended up with Tali.

Ziva had been on some antibiotics after getting shot, and had not exactly been thinking straight when she pulled him into the bedroom of the farmhouse.

He had not been thinking of contraception either.

The one, two, three times they fell into each other's arms that evening had been a dream.

Come home with me, he said as they fell asleep in each other's arms.

You know I cannot, she said.

"That was seven years ago," she said, as she lent forward to adjust the temperature in the car.

It was getting stuffy.

The anniversary of the day he had walked away from her had passed the week before, and both of them had noticed. It was a Thursday, and neither of them could look each other in the eye. As soon as they dropped Tali off at school, they raced home and fell into bed.

I'm never gonna let you go, he whispered to her back, as he ran his fingers along her spine.

I am not going to ask you to leave, she said as she turned over in bed to face him. I promise.

Her curls fell down her front, and he leaned in for a kiss.

They might not be married but they had made vows.

"I am older," Ziva said, dragging Tony into the present. "I will be thirty eight next month."

He knew that.

In the tyre well of the trunk in the car, some of Ziva's presents were hidden.

A book she had been talking about, and the scarf he had seen her admire, when they crossed the Seine to pick up Tali's new dance leotard.

There was also a pair of earrings in the safety deposit box, along with the ring that would be on her finger by the end of the year.

"We're both older," he said.

His next birthday would be a big one.

The big 5-0.

How different fifty would look to forty.

"Yes," Ziva said, "But, my age is more of a concern. Fertility declines with age."

Tony shrugged.

"Plenty of people have babies after thirty-five," he said.

"It is not just that," Ziva said, looking down at her lap. "I have not always treated my body kindly, that can affect things."

Other people had not treated her body kindly.

Sometimes, he wanted to fly to Somalia, drag Saleem from his sandy grave and kill him all over again.

Bile rose in his throat.

"Did you talk to your doctor about that?" he asked.

Ziva nodded, a shaky nod, the same one Tali did sometimes.

"She said that we will not know until we try," Ziva reported. "Tali was not exactly planned, which might be a good sign, but I am older now."

So they knew nothing.

"Okay," he said. "So we'll try, and see what happens."

He could see them now. They would be those crazy people with a toddler and a teenager.

Tony would forever be mistaken for this currently hypothetical second child's grandfather.

The DiNozzo's party of four.

Or, he, Ziva and Tali would be a tight little trio.

Tony would not mind either way.

"I just do not want you to be disappointed," Ziva said. "If it does not happen."

"I will be," he said.

Ziva flinched.

"And, so will you," he said, "But, we will get over it. We have a great life, having another baby would add to that, it won't take anything away from it."

The optimist in him believed that they would have another baby. They had beaten the odds so many times, and he knew they could again.

He was the wildcard.

"I just do not want you to be disappointed in me," Ziva said, "That I could not give you another child."

Tony ran his hand over his face.

When would she understand that he loved her just for her, and not for what she could or could not give him.

"I would never be," Tony said. "You could never disappoint me."

Ziva scoffed.

"I'm serious," he said.

"It is just," Ziva started. "You did not get to experience the baby years last time, I wanted to give that to you."

And, Ziva had missed nearly four years of their daughter's life. He knew how deep that cut.

Tony called that even.

"Is that why you want to have another baby?" he asked. "For me."

He had never known it was an option. He was very nearly fifty, Ziva was pushing forty and Tali was already six. He had thought that window had closed.

Maybe, if he and Ziva had managed to do things in a more traditional way they might have had more than one kid, he had told himself once, when they were watching Tali play in the park with a pair of siblings. Tali was the awkward third wheel in the world of the siblings.

They had fought so hard to get to this point, Tony wasn't going to rock the boat, in case it tipped them all out.

There was no way he would be able to save both of them from drowning without hurting himself.

"Not just for you," Ziva said. "For Tali as well, I want to give her a sibling."

He imagined Tali holding a little baby. A real life doll.

How close could siblings with an almost decade age gap be?

He thought of McGee and his sister, who seemed to be in different worlds.

"You want another baby too, right?" Tony said. "You're not gonna put yourself through pregnancy for me and Tali."

A few years ago Tony had been sent a link to a Gofundme page for a guy who had been in his fraternity, whose wife had died suddenly in childbirth. She had been perfectly healthy before, and suddenly there was a blood clot, and she was gone. Tony's frat brother was left with a newborn and a lifetime of grief.

"Yes, I do," Ziva said.

"Why?" he asked.

He would not let her martyr herself, no matter what she thought she deserved.

"What?" she asked.

"Why do you want to have another baby?" he asked.

Ziva looked down at her lap again.

"I just do," Ziva said, "I feel it deep down. I see babies on the street and I remember Tali at the age, and I want to do it again. I want to hold a baby in my arms again. I would like to be pregnant again, which is not something I ever thought I would say."

He reached for her hand, and squeezed it.

She had not talked much about her pregnancy with Tali, but Tony knew the morning sickness had been horrible and Ziva had not enjoyed what it did to her body.

If they were lucky enough to get a second pregnancy, he would treat her like a queen. Rubbing her feet, and letting her sleep late.

"I do not if it is just my body wanting to do it again before it is too late," Ziva said, "Or if a part of me wants to have everything I did not have with Tali. I was so scared when I was pregnant with her. They say that babies in the womb take on their mothers' stress and I worry about that. Maybe not now, but later on."

"She's okay," he said, "She's the happiest kid we know."

In the back of his mind the same worries lingered. Tony knew these hurts stayed dormant until adolescence.

They might know how much this had all affected her for another six years.

Whatever happened, they would meet her hurt with love and support, and they would get through it.

"I know," Ziva said. "And, I know I will never be able to make up for what I missed with Tali, or what I took away from you by not telling you, and I would never want Tali to feel like we were replacing her, but I would like to try for another child. I think it would be good for all three of us."

He tried to imagine Ziva pregnant, her belly round with child. Their child.

He imagined Tali placing her hands on the globe under Ziva's t-shirt, and talking to the baby.

A baby would so easily slip into their life. A fourth leg added to their unstable table.

It would be healing for all three of them.

"I never had any siblings," he said, the thought going from brain to mouth without any of the usual filters. "I've always wondered what that's like."

Through the mirror he watched as Ziva's eyes became glassy.

She had buried two siblings. She had to put a bullet in one of them and that had very nearly destroyed her.

What would they have called their daughter, if there was an Aunt Tali in her life?

Would he and Ziva have met if Ari had not made such a mess?

"I want that for Tali," Ziva said. "I always hoped that if I never came back, that you would have been able to move on and give Tali siblings. You would have had one of those tv families with the laugh track."

Tony felt the bile burn his throat.

He opened the door, and let those words out.

The door beeped. The cool autumn air blew in, and neutralized the heat.

"Please," he said, his voice cracking. "Don't talk like that. I know you thought about it, and wrote those letters. But, I can't think about a world where you didn't come home."

Ziva squeezed his hand.

"You came home," he said after a few quiet seconds. "We get to talk about the future, that's what matters."

They were quiet for a few seconds both of them gathering thoughts.

"Do you think that Tali would like to have a brother or sister?" Ziva asked.

Tony thought about it, Tali did not seem to enjoy hanging around younger children. She had never really asked for a sibling. She did ask for a puppy every chance she got.

In those early days when Tony and Tali were still getting to know each other, Tony had held her tight and told her that their family might be small but it meant he would give her all his love.

He was sure that if they gave Tali a little sibling, she would love having a real life doll.

Tony knew now, that if they had another baby that his love would not be divided up between the two children, but doubled.

Love was the ultimate renewable resource.

"We might be able to give her both," he said, "I read somewhere that twins are more likely in older women. The ovaries have a going out of business sale or something."

Ziva grimaced, and Tony was not sure if it was because he was talking about the possibility of twins, or about ovaries.

So many of the parenting books he read were aimed at mothers, and had learnt a lot about the female reproductive system.

"Not that I am saying you're old," he said, with a laugh, "Especially compared to me."

Ziva smirked.

"Many of those are due to extraordinary measures," she said. "Which is not something I would like to pursue. If it does not happen for us then it is not meant to be."

"You mean treatments?" he asked.

Ziva nodded.

"Yeah, I'd rather not go down that road," he said.

Jimmy and Breena were trying to give Tori a sibling, and as of yet had not been successful. Jimmy had mentioned in their most recent Skype conversation that he and Breena were going to see a specialist in the new year if nothing had happened.

They had also been talking about adoption again, even after all the hurt they went through last time.

Maybe baby DiNozzo 2.0 would be close in age to Autopsy Spawns second offspring like Tali and Tori were, and unlike Tali and Tori would actually know each other.

"We will stop using contraception," Ziva said, "We will see what happens, and make peace with the outcome."

Tony liked that idea.

He remembered Ziva's 'I will' list the one they had reburied under the olives mere hours before they conceived Tali.

I will have a boy and a girl.

She had not been able to accomplish everything on the original list, but she might be able to accomplish that.

He liked the idea of Tali having a baby brother she could boss around.

"Of course, I'd like to marry you before we have another baby," he said. "Nonna DiNozzo would be turning in her grave at the thought of two babies out of wedlock."

Ziva made a show of moving her hand in front of him and wiggling her bare ring finger.

She was ready to go down to whatever the French equivalent of city hall was, and promise him forever.

She had even floated the idea of them getting married when they went back to DC for Tali's spring break, and he had reminded her that technically they were not engaged yet.

I am waiting, she had said, as they snuggled on the couch to watch a movie.

He had thought getting her to marry him would be a battle, but she was agreeable.

"The ball is in your pitch," she said. "Bubbe David would also be turning in her grave."

He laughed.

He had a vision of Ziva wearing a white dress, with a slight bump at the waist.

"The ball is in my court," he said, correcting her. "And, just you wait."

Ziva smiled. A huge fall beam of a smile.

"So, we're gonna do this," he said. "We're gonna try for another baby."

The DiNozzo's party of four.

"We are," Ziva said.

He thought of where they were a year ago. Ziva was still underground but having made herself known to Gibbs. She was still trying to find Adam, and rescue him. Tony was barely managing to keep it all together, and Tali innocent from it all.

So much had changed, and so quickly.

Their life was so much better than he could have imagined.

"What, right here?" he asked.

They had never really gotten the chance to have car sex.

Ziva chuckled again.

"Maybe not here," Ziva said, as she looked around the car. "I do not think it will be good for your back."

He smiled.

He'd have to take care of his back if they had another baby. Kids got heavy quickly.

Ziva turned off the heater in the car.

"Perhaps it is a good thing our apartment is around the corner," she purred, as she opened the door, and got out of the car. "And, we have four hours before we have to leave to pick up Tali."

He got out of the car, and pressed the fob.

They met each other on the sidewalk, and he took her hand. Orange and red leaves blanketed the sidewalk. There were leaves on the windowsill of their apartment, because Tali liked to bring them home from their walks.

Paris in the autumn was beautiful.

Paris was beautiful in all seasons.

Ziva's eyes peeked out from above the mask she had pulled over her face.

The promised rain had not fallen, yet, and Tony hoped it would still be dry when they had to pick up Tali.

"Well, we better make the most of it," he said, as he pulled his mask over his face.

They made it from the car to their apartment in record time.


	26. Letting Love In

Ziva felt her shoulders relax as the car turned into a familiar street.

She was nearly home. Nearly back with her family. The two most precious people in her universe.

"Here, Madame?" the ride share driver asked as the car slowed down opposite the apartment building.

"Yes," Ziva said, as her eyes flirted around the car. They rested on the photo hanging off the mirror, a little boy with the same dark complexion as the driver. "Thank you."

She wondered if the boy was in Paris with his father, or back in a faraway land knowing his father through grainy phone calls and cheques for more than he could ever earn in his homeland.

The car stopped, and the phone that was in Ziva's pocket with a receipt from the ride share app. She and the driver wished each other good night, and she stepped out into the cool night.

Paris in November was cold and wet.

The car sped up along the street, did an illegal U-turn, and whizzed past, loud music disturbing the quiet of the residential street.

Ziva pulled her coat tighter, and tried to ignore the pain in her feet.

She should have broken the high heels in, with as much care as she used to break in combat boots.

She looked across the street, her eyes moving toward a familiar third floor apartment. The light in the living room was on.

She had told Tony not to wait up, but of course he had.

The window of Tali's closet sized bedroom was dark.

Ziva could easily imagine what it was like in the apartment. Tony dozing on the couch with the menu of one of the streaming services they subscribed to on the tv.

Tali in deep sleep in her bedroom. Her army of soft toys surrounding her. Ziva hoped her daughter was having peaceful dreams.

Ziva crossed the road and walked through the door of the apartment building.

She thought of another taxi, on a cold December morning. The taxi that got caught in worse than usual traffic because of the transport strike. The neighbourhood was unfamiliar then, just an address texted after Ziva asked Tony not to pick her up at the airport, because she needed to reunite with them in private.

She remembered looking up at the window to the third floor, and seeing Tony looking out of it. She had not seen him for so long. Tali was next to him, with a huge smile on her face. The two of them waved at her, beckoning her, calling her home.

She remembered climbing the stairs unsure of what awaited her. Tony and Tali ran out into the hall, and wrapped her in a tight hug.

Wherever she was, she would be home as long as she had them.

Now, she climbed the now familiar stairs, noticing the debris of various neighbours. A bicycle in the lobby, even though there was a bike rack in the back courtyard. A pair of shoes.

Her high heels clack-clacked in the hallway as Ziva reached the third floor.

She opened the tiny impractical purse, brought solely for this evening, and fished out her keys. She stopped outside the door, and opened the note that Tali had put in Ziva's purse while she was getting ready.

I love you, Ima! More than the moon and the stars. Love from Tali.

Ziva smiled at the note, and ran her finger along the fat hearts Tali had drawn. Tears pricked her eyes. Her emotions were so close to the surface these days.

All of those worries Ziva had about Tali rejecting her because of her absence, had long ago been quashed.

Tali's love was pure and sweet. Tali's love was given freely.

She held her keys in her hand, and looked at the door.

She was home. Her safe place.

The door opened before Ziva had a chance to put her key in the lock.

Tony stood in front of her, wearing the ratty OSU hoodie that Ziva sometimes borrowed on cold mornings. His sweatpants had a faded stain on the knee, something that had been acquired during lockdown.

"Hi," he said, with a soft smile.

He stepped back and let her in.

"Hi," she said, as she crossed the threshold.

She reached out for Tony, her hand on his forearm and tugged off her heels.

Even though her tights Ziva could see a blister forming. She would be nursing that for days.

"How was it?" he asked, as Ziva let go of him, and shrugged off her coat.

She hung the simple black trench next to Tali's new winter coat, another pink puffer coat, that made Tali look ridiculous, but sparked so much joy in Tali.

She felt Tony's eyes on her enjoying the dress she was wearing.

"It was," Ziva started, the words getting caught in her throat. "I needed to do this. Thank you for getting the ticket."

As soon as the Paris opera had reopened, Tony had jumped online and gotten Ziva the ticket. He had stayed up until midnight waiting for the box office to open.

Then as they walked back to their apartment after dropping Tali off at school, he sent the email to Ziva.

Thought you'd want to keep your tradition, he said, with his hands in his pockets, and a sheepish smile.

Seeing the email had made her stop in the street.

How could Tony know her better than she knew herself?

"Was it weird with all the distancing?" he asked.

Ziva shrugged.

She had spent most of the performance with her eyes closed. If she closed them for just long enough she could hear her sister's songbird voice.

"I think it would have been more weird if people were not distancing," she said, as she ran her hands down her dress again.

What a strange year it had been.

"That's a nice dress," he murmured. "Like really nice."

She looked down the royal blue dress, the one that Tali said made Ziva look like a princess. Ziva had not planned to buy the dress, but when they took Tali to get some new winter clothes, Ziva saw it in a window and fell in love.

She had never been the type of woman to lust over dresses. Coats and combat boots, yes, but not dresses.

For the seven operas she had attended in DC, and the one she attended in Tel Aviv, the one where she was carrying a passenger in her belly, she had always worn black.

Black as a colour of mourning, and she was grieving.

Grieving for the songbird whose voice was muted.

Grieving for the adult she was who had to navigate the world without her little sister.

Blue had been her sister's favourite colour. Blue was the colour of the sea and the sky.

Blue was a colour of hidden depths, Tali had said as a thirteen year old quasi philosopher in their bedroom in the sky. It can be a sad colour and a happy colour, maybe both at the same time.

The blue dress felt like it would sign from the universe, if Ziva believed in those things.

"Thank you," she said, a slight blush on her face. She reached up for the earrings in her ears, a birthday present from Tony. "How did bedtime go?"

Ziva had been home for eleven months and had never missed a bedtime, until tonight. That left a guilty taste in her mouth.

"It was okay," Tony said, "I let her stay up a little longer, so I'm the best Daddy in the world."

Ziva scoffed.

They walked across the living area and toward the kitchen. They conducted many late night conversations in the kitchen, as it was on the opposite side of the apartment from Tali's bedroom.

Tony held up two mugs, and pointed to the kettle.

Ziva nodded.

Her new life involved a lot of late night tea drinking.

Her new life was one built on the foundation of peace.

"She said she wants to go with you to the opera, one day," Tony said. "She wants to go next year, but I said she might be a little young."

Next year everything would be different.

They would be back in D.C, most likely living in a car centric suburb. But both Tony and Ziva were willing to sacrifice the walkability of Paris, so that Tali could grow up with her last remaining grandparent, and her almost cousins.

They would hopefully be married then. Ziva's ring finger was still bare, but she had seen Tony's search history on his phone, when he handed it to her so she could make sense of a website the google translate had not translated properly. She knew a proposal was coming, and she knew he would make it special.

Maybe, just maybe there would be a swell under Ziva's dress. A second child. A fourth leg on their table. A stabilizing force for all of them.

"Do you think she likes opera?" Ziva asked.

Ziva thought of another apartment. This one high in the sky, looking over a Mediterranean city, of the music her mother used to play. Usually it was pop music from the radio, or some folk music from Rivka's hippie days, played on the ancient record player. Occasionally, Rivka would put on some classical music, either a ballet or an opera.

Tali David would stop still when the opera played. She would sit herself down in front of the record player and close her eyes. In those moments nothing else mattered.

It had been love at first note.

Tony shook his head.

Their daughters' musical taste was much more pedestrian.

"No," he said, "She thinks Baby Shark is the definition of musical genius."

Ziva felt a smirk cross her face.

Tony reached into the cupboard above the kettle, and played the familiar game of Tetris to find the loose leaf tea.

Ziva could not wait to have an American sized kitchen. To be able to stand behind Tali and help her roll out dough, without hitting her back on the back cabinets.

"Honestly," he said, as he found the tea, and prepared it. The chamomile tea from the fancy tea shop a few blocks away from Tali's school, had been Tali's present to Ziva for her recent birthday. "I don't think we have a musical prodigy on our hands, but I do think she wants to know more about the person she was named after."

Ziva thought of the cult of brilliance in the apartment in the sky. Her father pushed her harder, but her mother was indoctrinated too. Rivka David wanted her daughters to be the best. To be brilliant. Rivka had never had a chance to be brilliant so she had poured her ambition into her daughters.

I shall be the mother of a ballet dancer and an opera singer, Rivka had once said as they navigated another traffic jam, And, this shall be worth it.

"I worried about that when I named her," Ziva said. "That she would try to live for two people."

The kettle boiled over. Tony picked it up, and poured it over the tea infusers.

"She's six," he said, as the steam rose from the mugs. "I don't think she's thinking like that. She just wants to know more about her parents. Remember she was asking all those questions about my Mom the other day."

They had started talking to Tali more and more about the move they were planning. Tali had asked if Tony had grown up in DC because that's where Senior was, Tony had shook his head, and given Tali a brief summary of all the places he had lived.

Tali had been fascinated, especially when she found out her paternal grandmother had been from England.

She had been full of questions as they ate dinner, and Tony had answered them with just the hint of pain.

"You are probably right," Ziva said, "But, when she is older this will be more complex."

Tony filed up a water glass at the sink, and poured a little bit of cold water in the mugs.

"We'll deal with it," he said softly. "Together, like was always do."

It was a common refrain. A promise that whatever happened, they would face it together.

It was two of them versus the world.

Ziva picked up her mug. It was warm in her hands. The warmth travelled through her. She was home. She was safe.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"It's just tea," he said. "You probably make it better than I do."

"No," Ziva said. "I mean yes, thank you for the tea, but also thank you for everything. Thank you for getting the ticket, and for telling Tali about my sister. You always let me make room for her, and especially this week."

The two David daughters had been born four years and ten days apart, and for sixteen years they celebrated together.

There had been eighteen birthdays celebrated apart. Not all of them celebrated.

For so long Ziva's birthday had been entwined with grief. Her therapist had introduced Ziva to a diagram of grief. A ball in a box. When the bereavement first happened the ball was big and touched all sides of the box. Then as time passed and the healing came, the ball got smaller. Things would never go back to what life was like before, but life was bearable, sometimes even good. Then something happened and the ball hit one of the walls, and things hurt for a while.

For Ziva, birthdays always hurt a little, and she needed to do something with that hurt.

For her mother in August she made her favourite food, and read her favourite poem in lyrical Arabic.

For her sister in November, there was a visit to the opera.

And, when Ziva was apart from her daughter, Tali's summer birthday brought grief of its own. Ziva had spent three birthday's holding the pendant of her necklace and singing a lullaby, hoping that Tali knew that Ziva loved her, even if she could not be with them right now.

"I want Tali to know all about the people who shaped us," he whispered. "She'll know all the stories."

Tali would know her maternal grandmother's babka recipe.

Tali would know her paternal grandmother's favourite movies.

And, most importantly she would know all about her cheeky namesake who dreamed of singing in opera houses around the world.

"She will," Ziva said.

Tony took a sip of tea, and placed the cup on the counter. He reached up to the high cupboard, moved a bag of rice, and pulled out a packet of cookies they had hidden from Tali.

He opened the crinkly packet, and took two cookies.

"When was the last time you went to the opera?" he asked as he handed her one of the cookies. "I know you didn't go that last year you were in D.C."

Ziva thought of the CD Tony had put on for her in the squadroom. It had been the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for her.

If only she had been ready to fully accept his love.

It could have saved so much heartache.

"The last time was in Tel Aviv," Ziva said, "The first year I went back, I went with Shmeil."

She thought of the modernist Tel Aviv opera house, and how Shmeil kept bumping into people he knew. She thought of the black dress that was her normal size but felt too tight, even though Ziva's had barely eaten since she sent Tony home.

Both she and Shmeil had cells dividing and replicating in their bodies, and both were in denial about it. Shmeil's dividing cells would spell his end, but Ziva's meant a whole new life. The start of everything.

"Shmeil the man of steel would have been quite the opera companion," Tony said, as he ate his cookie. Crumbs fell onto his hoodie.

Ziva thought of Shmeil's soft voice, as they stood in the modernist foyer.

Ziva, I worry for you, he had said, All this time alone is not good.

"He was," she said with a smile.

For Shmeil's birthday she opened a battered copy of one of his books, just so she could close her eyes and hear his voice.

"It was strange to go to the opera in Tel Aviv," Ziva said. "I had only gone to the opera for my sister when I lived in America. My life had been too nomadic before then."

That life had been by her own design. If you kept moving then your pain could not catch up with you.

Her only focus in those early years had been revenge.

"Next year," he said, "You can go back to the Kennedy center. One year you might even take Tali."

Ziva tried to imagine introducing an older Tali to her namesakes art.

This is what your Aunt lived for.

"Maybe," she said. "If she really wants to go. I would never force it on her."

Her daughter would be whoever she was meant to be.

"I know," he said. "Maybe, you and I can go together one day, opera is one of the big three."

Tony pulled two more cookies from the packet and handed one too Ziva. She bit into it, crumbs fell down her expensive dress.

"I probably won't get to take you to the Palais Garnier, so the Kennedy center will have to do," he said, as he chomped into his cookie. He ate greedily, just like Tali.

Ziva thought of the grainy photograph of the ornate decoration that had been pinned onto a shared cork board in a shared bedroom in the late nineties. Tali had pinned it next to other opera houses she was going to sing at.

It had been the start of Ziva's love affair in Paris. Brutalist Tel Aviv looked so plain compared to Paris.

"We will come back to Paris one day," Ziva declared. "I hear it is quite the honeymoon destination."

Tony chuckled.

"I can think of a lot of great honeymoon destinations," he said, as he stepped just a foot closer. "I will take you on the best honeymoon ever."

She touched his hand. The past, present, and future all swirled together.

"I still have that CD you made for me," she said. "You know the year before I went back to Israel."

Calling it going back to Israel, was an understatement. There was so much more in those words.

Tony raised his eyebrow.

"Where?" he asked.

"In Odette's cabin," Ziva said. "I think I must have put it there at some place. I liked to put things I wanted to keep safe there. I found it when I was hiding out for a while."

She thought of those long days hiding in Odette's cabin, trying to keep the panic at bay. She had been moving things around to try and make a place to hide a cell phone, and found the CD tucked between some of her journals.

As soon as she saw it she knew exactly what it was, even though it did not have a label, she could feel Tony's love.

She played just a few minutes on Odette's ancient stereo, but it was too much. She could not let her emotions come to the surface.

Conceal, don't feel.

Grief bubbled up inside her.

"That was one of the kindest things anyone had ever done for me," she said. "I definitely did not deserve it."

Tony wrapped his arm around her waist.

"You deserve kind things," he said.

She felt her eyes moisten, and a sob tried to move through her.

She pressed her face on his chest, and his arms moved up her back.

His chest muffled the sob.

"I've got you," he said softly. "I've always had your back."

The ball was pressing on the wall. Everything hurt.

"She has been dead longer than she was ever alive," she whispered.

Tali David would have been thirty-four to Ziva's thirty eight.

The David girls had been four years and ten days apart in age.

What would Tali have been like as an adult?

What would Ziva have been if she still had her little sister?

"When I realised that," Ziva said. "It really hurt."

Time marched on. An unstoppable march, bulldozing over cities and not caring what it left in its wake.

"I know it's not the same," he said, "But, when I realised I was older than my Mom got to be, it really messed me up for a while."

In just two more birthdays she would be older than her mother got to be.

Thirty eight, a birthday finally celebrated with her partner and daughter, had seemed like an impossible age, when she first swaggered into the pumpkin walled squadroom.

Ziva David simply never expected to live this long.

Ziva reached up for his face, and held it in her hands.

"I love you," she said.

"I love you too," he said.

She looked deeply into his eyes.

"Do you wish Tali had a different name?" she asked.

He scrunched his face.

"No," he said. "I love her name, besides we're about six years too late to change it."

Ziva nodded.

She tried to imagine calling out a different name. One of the popular ones heard all over Israel. Maya. Noa. Yael. But, none of them fit.

Her daughter was always meant to be a Tali.

"I meant do you wish I had not named her after someone," Ziva said.

Tony frowned.

"I was so sure that I was not going to name her Tali," Ziva said. "Then I held her for the first time and nothing else fit. Her name was Tali."

The hospital room came back to her. It was finally quiet after all those hours of pain, and nurses trying to talk to Ziva. The baby was tiny in Ziva's arms. So perfect.

Tali, Ziva said as the tiny creature opened and closed her perfect little mouth. You are so loved.

Tali. Tali. Tali.

"It was meant to be," he assured her. "I do wish I had been there, so we could have named her together. To be there for both of my girls."

Ziva's throat dried.

If only she had let him in.

One phone call could have changed everything.

She swallowed thickly banishing those old feelings. They were focusing on the future.

"If we have another child," Ziva said. "You can decide their name."

She hoped she could give him another child.

She hoped to hold another baby in her arms.

She hoped to see Tali holding her little sibling.

Hope was a dangerous currency. One that she had not often allowed herself to deal in.

"We'll decide that together," he said. "Tali will probably want to have a say in it too."

Ziva nodded.

Tony painted such a vivid picture of what their life could look like.

Her eyes felt itchy, there had been so much crying over these last few days.

Happy tears, when Tony and Tali presented her with a birthday tea, and more presents than she could ever imagine. There had been so much love in their dining area, while it drizzled outside.

Sad tears, when she woke on the morning of what should have been her little sisters thirty-fourth birthday. Sad tears when Tony wrapped his arms around her on the still-dark morning.

Her emotions were so close to the surface these days, because she let them be.

She let herself feel.

"I love you," she said again.

She wanted to say it a million times.

"I love you too," he said, as he looked toward the bedroom. "Now, I don't know about you, but I'm up way past my bedtime. Shall we retire for the evening, M'Lady?"

Ziva stood up in her tiptoes and placed a kiss on his lips. He leaned into the kiss, and kissed back.

They were home. They were safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this chapter in August 2020 before France went into it's second lockdown. So please allow some creative licence. Thanks for reading!


	27. The Big Question

"All right Small Fry, wanna run through it again?" Tony asked Tali.

Tali shook her head. Her little curls bounced.

"We got it," she said, confidence oozing out of her.

Nerves twisted in Tony's gut. He could not screw this up.

"Can I see the ring?" Tali asked. "Please."

Tony reached into his pant pocket and pulled out a familiar velvet box.

Tali's eyes lit up.

Diamonds were his little girl's best friend.

"Careful," he warned, as he handed Tali the box.

It was early December, Paris was grey and cold, but inside the apartment, it was bright. Each day of the previous week, Tony had come home with a new bunch of flowers for Ziva, wanting to bring some colour into their little apartment.

Each time he presented Ziva with her flowers, a smile would light up her whole face.

Winter was hard for her sometimes. She did not do well with the short days.

Tali opened the ring box carefully, and studied the ring.

"It's really pretty," Tali said. "The prettiest ring ever."

It would look beautiful on Ziva's finger.

"It is," he said. "It used to be my Moms."

He thought of all those times he had laid next to his Mom in bed, when she was sick. Her fingers had shrunk and the rings were loose. He spent hours fiddling with the rings while she slept. He would listen to each breath, grateful for just one more.

He was only eight he needed his mother. It seemed so cruel to take her away.

"Really?" Tali asked, excitement filling her voice.

Tali got so excited when Tony told her about his mother. She was desperate for stories of those who made her parents who they were.

"Yeah," he said. "I was surprised Pop-Pop kept it all these years. It's been a long time."

He was also surprised that Senior had never used it for any of the other wives or almost wives.

This was always her ring, Senior had explained when he gave it to Tony during his cut-short visit. I could never give it to anyone else.

The minute I met Ziva, I hoped she would wear this one day. I didn't think it would take a decade, but here we are, Senior had said as they drunk coffee in a crowded cafe. It belongs on her finger.

Oh how, Tony missed crowded cafes.

And his Dad. Skype was just not the same.

"Won't Ima want something new?" Tali asked.

Tony had thought about buying something new, but he wanted Ziva to have something with a story. To show her that no matter what their history, they would work through it together.

Their past was a part of them, but it did not define their future.

"No," he said. "Ima likes history. Remember all those museums we went to on our vacation."

Tali rolled her eyes.

Tony felt a warmth wash over him as he remembered their trip. He remembered Tali's squeals of delight as they ran into the ocean. He remembered the smile on Ziva's face when he appeared from his walk with ice creams for his favourite girls. He remembered Ziva's big floppy hat and huge sunglasses, and how she looked like a movie star when they took the train over the border to Italy.

Those memories would sustain him during what promised to be a grey and cold winter.

"It should be illegal to go to a museum two days in a row," Tali said.

Tony laughed. Ziva had already made a list of museums that she would be taking Tali too once they moved back to the states. Maybe, Tali would grow to love museums.

Tali closed the box, and handed it back to Tony.

"Daddy," Tali said, as she looked toward the door. Ziva was due home in ten minutes. Then it would be show time. "Why are you asking Ima now?"

Tony frowned.

"Because I love her," he said. "And, I know she loves me."

"I know that," Tali said. "But, we've had all of our birthdays together, Ima's been back home for a long time. Why are you only asking Ima now?"

Tony smirked. He'd been called out by his six year old.

He had been called out by his Dad during their last Skype session.

Even McGee had asked delicately over facetime, So, are you and Ziva going to get married?

Ziva had reminded him of her bare ring finger, as they enjoyed some time together while Tali was at school.

It was time.

"Did Pop-Pop ask you to ask that?" he asked.

Tali shook her head.

"Did Ima?" Tony asked.

Tali shook her head. More dramatically this time.

"I should have asked Ima a long time ago," he said, thinking of the olive grove. He should have stayed, no matter how many times she tried to send him away. "A very long time ago."

He had thought his job mattered to him then, but now he knew that his girls mattered so much more.

With the two of them he was home.

"Well, I'm six and a half," Tali said. "So yeah."

Tony stifled a laugh. This kid, his kid, was the funniest person he had ever known.

"Yeah," he said. "You know it was always my plan to propose to Ima, when she came back home to us."

Even after seeing his Dad treat marriage as disposable, and everything that happened with Wendy, Tony still believed in marriage.

He wanted to call Ziva his wife.

"Sometimes, I kinda forget she wasn't here for all that time," Tali interrupted, her voice getting soft. Her sad voice. "Then I remember, and I get sad."

Tony's chest ached. Tali had known too much pain in her short life.

He wanted to protect her from it all.

"I get sad sometimes too," Tony said delicately, "So, does Ima."

Tali nodded.

"We love you," he said. "You know that right."

"Yeah," Tali said, her face brighter now. "You haven't answered my question."

"What was your question again?" Tony asked, playing dumb.

"Why haven't you proposed to Ima, already?" Tali asked. "She's been home for ages."

Tony sucked in a deep breath.

"Well it's been a big year," he started. "We all had to get used to living with each other again, and Ima needed a little bit of help to fix herself up. Then we had that lockdown, do you remember that?"

"Of course I do," Tali said. "We got to watch movies everyday but we couldn't go out. Now we have to wear masks all the time."

There were talks of a second wave, every time there was a spike of cases. Tony did not want another lockdown.

"Yeah," he said. "There was a lot going on, and I wanted us to be all settled before I added another thing."

Tali frowned. She didn't get it.

"But, this is happy," Tali said.

"I know," he said, "but even happy things can be stressful. Just you wait until we plan this wedding."

"Ima says I can pick the cake," Tali declared.

He and Ziva were already calling Tali bridesmaidzilla, because she was much more invested in the details of the wedding than her parents.

"Yeah," he said. "You can."

A proposal had always been part of the plan. On those late nights, where Tali was asleep but he couldn't. Tony wanted to make up for all of the time they had lost. He would plan all the things he would say to Ziva, the minute she was back with them.

He had always had it in his head, that he would get on one knee, once Ziva had been home for a year. Once, they had found their new normal.

After their first Valentine's Day together, Tony had started to loosely plan a proposal for the following Valentine's Day. He had made sure that his Dad brought his Mom's ring on the transatlantic flight. When he had held the ring for the first time in forty years, he had known that it belonged on Ziva's finger.

Senior had said as much.

Then the global pandemic happened.

Then Tali jumped the gun, and forced them to talk about marriage. To his surprise, Ziva wanted to get married. He had thought he would have to convince her.

Then, they decided to try for another baby. Something that he had never thought was an option, but now wanted with his whole being.

Tony had woken up on the first day of December and decided that Ziva would have a ring on her finger before Christmas.

It was time.

They had wasted enough time, they could not afford to waste anymore.

"And, I get to wear a pretty dress," Tali said.

"Yeah," Tony said, as he fingered the ring in his pocket.

He knew Ziva's answer, but he was still nervous.

This needed to be perfect. Ziva deserved a proposal right out of a movie.

She deserved nice things.

"Daddy," Tali said again.

She had yet another question.

"Yes," he said, dragging out the word.

"When will the wedding be?" Tali asked.

"Well, Ima has to say yes first," Tony said.

"She'll say yes," Tali said.

He knew Tali had probably spilled the beans to Ziva during bedtime. They had been chatting about something very intensely the other day.

"How do you know that?" he asked.

"I just do," Tali said, looking at the floor. "She loves you, and you love her. So you get married."

"Okay," Tony said. "I hope you're right."

"So, when will you and Ima get married?" Tali asked.

"I dunno," he said.

"Tomorrow?" Tali asked.

Tony shook his head. He had looked into getting married in France, but it was too complicated.

He and Ziva had decided they wanted to do it in America. Surrounded by all the people they loved. All the people who had helped them along the way.

"No," Tony said. "Probably, when we go back to America. We would want Pop-Pop and all our friends to be there."

"When we go for spring vacation?" Tali asked.

There were tickets booked for April, for the first ten days of Tali's two week spring break. Providing there was no second lockdown they would be going.

"Probably not," he said, "We have a lot to do in those ten days."

They had to find a house, find a school for Tali, and Tony might even try to line up a couple of job interviews.

He had been content to slip back into law enforcement, perhaps getting a desk job among the pumpkin walls, but a night spent flicking through college buddies' LinkedIn profiles had inspired him to look into a different path. The laziest guy on his PhysEd course, now ran a disability sport organisation, after losing a leg in a motorcycle accident. One of the kids he coached had represented the USA in the Paralympics.

Tony and Ziva had Eli's blood money to sustain them, and could afford to take a lower paid job for the love of it.

Tony wanted to do something that helped people pick up the pieces and make something of the cards life had dealt them.

He also wanted to be home for dinner every single day.

Especially, if they ended up adding a high chair to the dining room.

"So, when we move back forever," Tali clarified.

Tony nodded.

Tali looked away from him. She was hot and cold about moving to the states.

She did not want to leave her friends, but she did like the idea of seeing her Pop-Pop more often.

"Yeah," he said. "Probably not until next summer at the earliest. Weddings take time to plan."

The wedding, when it eventually happened, would be the definition of low-key. Tony was partial to the idea of gathering all their favourite people together for another reason, and tacking a wedding on the end of it.

Ziva would be happy as long as they were married by a Rabbi.

"That's ages away," Tali whined.

Tony smiled.

Time had a way of expanding and contracting, all at the same time.

"It gives us lots of time to plan," he assured her. "Picking the cake is a big decision."

Tali nodded, and a smile dawned over her face.

"What happens after you get married?" Tali asked.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"First comes love, then comes marriage, and then comes the baby carriage," Tali said. "That's how it goes."

Tony smiled, he and Ziva had always done things out of order.

"We already had the baby carriage," Tony said. "You're here."

Tali nodded.

"Flora's Dad got married again," Tali started. "And, she's getting a baby sister next year."

Tony's heart broke for Tali's school friend, whose parents had gone through a difficult divorce, and now lived on opposite sides of the channel. Tali's little friend had only seen her father on a screen for almost six months.

"Would you like to have a baby brother or sister?" Tony asked.

Tali shrugged.

"I don't like sharing," Tali said.

Tony stifled a laugh.

"I know," Tony retorted.

Sharing was a skill they were trying to work on. School had helped, but Tali's first instinct was not to share.

"But, I might be okay sharing you and Ima," Tali said. "As long as you still loved me."

Tony nodded,

"You are our favourite person in the whole wide world," Tony said, "We love you more than anything."

Love was a renewable resource. It was never divided. It only multiplied.

"Am I getting a brother or sister?" Tali asked.

"Not at this point," Tony said delicately. "But, maybe one day. If I could have another kid as cool as you, I'd be a happy Daddy."

"I want a sister," Tali said, "Boys are yucky."

Tony laughed.

He'd let Ziva know Tali's request.

They were in their second month of not preventing anything, and Tony and Ziva had spent a lot of the previous week in bed while Tali was at school.

It was just too cold to be outside to do anything, and the health authorities suggested avoiding crowds. So what were two people who loved each other very much to do

"You don't get to pick," he said. "It's a 50/50 chance, and it can go either way."

A quiet moment passed. The radiator hissed.

"You don't have any brothers or sisters," Tali said.

"No, I don't," Tony replied.

"And, Ima's sister died, that's why I'm called Tali," Tali continued. "For her."

"Yeah," Tony said softly. "Ima wanted to name you after somebody she loved very much."

"Do you wish you had a brother or sister?" Tali asked.

Tony sucked in a deep breath. The answer depended on the day. As a child there had been times when he wished for an older sibling to rely on, someone to explain why his Dad was like he was. Someone who was in his corner.

Other times he was glad it was just him, waiting for a car that never came.

"Sometimes," he said. "But, I've been really lucky. I've met some friends who I love like family."

Tali seemed satisfied with that answer.

"Like McUncle," Tali said.

It was one of the proudest moments of Tony's life when Tali called McGee, McUncle.

"Yes," Tony said. "Exactly."

He would give his life for Tim, and he knew Tim would do the same.

"Are we going to live in a big house, when we move to America?" Tali asked.

Tony thought of the real estate listings that he now scanned, while he drank his morning coffee, and the list of wants they had for the David-DiNozzo dream house.

Ziva wanted a place near a metro station, and she also wanted them to hold off on getting a second car. Tony knew that resolution would only last until the first snow fell. Still, he had focused the search to places that were a realistic walk to a metro stop on the red line. He had started following a blog that talked about the long-delayed purple line. He had become very invested in its stalled progress.

Tony wanted a space they could convert to a movie room, and a second bathroom.

Tali wanted a garden, so she could go outside everyday.

"Yeah," Tony said. "Probably not a big house, but definitely bigger than where we are now."

They were bursting at the seams of their little apartment.

"Is Pop-Pop going to live with us?" Tali asked. "You said we are moving to be near him."

"Pop-Pop has an apartment of his own," Tony said, thinking of Senior's tiny studio in a ugly high rise in Arlington. "And, we're not just moving to be close to him. McUncle and the twins live near D.C too, and Ellie. She's the lady who sent you all those books for your birthday."

There was also the Palmer spawn who was less than a year younger than Tali, Tony hoped those two would be fast friends once they were actually on the same continent.

"Are we going to have a garden?" Tali asked.

"Yeah," he said. "Probably."

All of the houses he had looked at had at least a patch of grass out the back. Ziva had started talking about growing vegetables and herbs. It turned out she had quite the green thumb.

"Can we get a puppy?" Tali asked. "Or even a big dog who needs a new home. I would help look after it."

Tony wondered if Tali would prefer a puppy over a sibling.

"Maybe," Tony said carefully. "It's a big decision that the three of us would have to make carefully."

"Ima wants a dog," Tali said. "Ima likes dogs."

"I know," Tony said.

He made a show of checking his watch.

"Ima,will be home soon," he announced.

Ziva had been sent out on an errand. They needed food.

Tony's phone buzzed, a message from Senior.

Calling Ziva now.

Senior had been employed in the plan, he was to call Ziva, to buy Tony ten minutes to get everything ready.

"I want to do one more dress rehearsal," Tony said. "This is a big deal, I want it to be perfect."

Tali pulled herself up, and ran her hands down her dress. It was a red velvet dress, brought the same day Ziva brought her opera dress, because Tali wanted something new.

"First, I tell Ima that she needs to get changed because we're playing dress up," Tali said. "Then when we come out, I tell her I want to show her my pictures because we're playing art gallery."

Tony nodded.

Tali picked up the paper that was laying face down on the couch.

"And then, I show her the pictures, there's five of them, but I have to show them in order, because each of them have a different word," Tali said. "It has to be in order."

Tali arranged the cards on the couch, in order.

"Let's practice with the cards," Tony said.

Tali nodded.

Tali moved the first card from the couch and rested it on the three dining chairs that had been placed together in front of the table, to serve as a ledge to display the art. One by one the poster sized cards were moved from the couch, turned them over to display the word, and put on the ledge. Each poster only had one word, and at least four of Tali's unevenly drawn hearts drawn on it.

IMA

WILL

YOU

MARRY

DADDY?

"Now, you practice your bit, Daddy," Tali commanded.

Tony lowered herself onto one knee, and pulled the ring box from his pocket.

Tali clapped her hands together, and bounced excitedly.

Tony's phone buzzed again.

Ziva's on her way.

"Okay kid," Tony said, as he rushed to put the cards away. "Ima's on her way. Remember, we've got to act normal."

Tali nodded.

Sweat ran down Tony's back.

His dress shirt was too tight, and his heart was in his chest.

It was game time.

The door of the apartment opened, and Ziva appeared draped in her huge winter coat. Her scarf was wrapped up to her nose, and a canvas shopping bag hanging off her shoulder.

"What is all of this?" Ziva asked, with an eyebrow raised.

"We're playing," Tali announced.

Tony moved across the living area to collect the groceries.

"In your nice clothes," Ziva said, "Daddy rather likes his sweatpants, especially when it is this cold."

Tony bit his tongue. Ziva had lived in exercise leggings during lockdown, but had only exercised for an hour a day.

Tony took the bag from Ziva's shoulders, and offered his arm for Ziva so she could take off her shoes. She hung up her scarf and coat, and unzipped her boots.

"Well, we haven't had a lot of chances to dress fancy this year," he said. "I wanted to get my fancy clothes out. It's a miracle they still fit."

He patted his belly for emphasis. Cooking had been Ziva's coping mechanism during the was more than happy to sample her culinary creations.

Ziva smiled. Her nose was red from the cold weather.

"No, we have not," she said. "If I had known we were dressing up, I would have gotten something much more fancy for dinner."

Tony peaked in the bag and saw the ingredients for risotto. Risotto was one of Tali's favourite meals.

"I think we can make this fancy," he said, as he moved across the living area to the kitchen.

Ziva moved across the living room, heading toward the cards on the couch.

"No, Ima," Tali said. "You have to dress up too."

Ziva frowned and looked down at her outfit. She was wearing her black turtleneck and jeans. The outfit Tony liked to call her Parisian chic outfit.

"Is this not fancy enough?" Ziva asked, with a raised eyebrow.

"No," Tali said. "You have to wear your opera dress."

Tali loved the opera dress. She asked Ziva to wear it all the time.

"That is very fancy," Ziva said. She moved closer toward the cards. "What are these anyway?"

"Art," Tali said. "We're playing art gallery, and you have to dress up."

Ziva turned slightly, and looked at Tony with raised eyebrows.

She did not really have to dress up, Tony would propose to her in pyjamas. Tali had latched onto the idea that they had to dress up. Sometimes it was easier to let Tali run away with her ideas.

"And, it's opening night, so you've gotta dress up," Tony said, putting on his play voice. "Miss DiNozzo's shows are very exclusive."

Ziva looked back at the cards, her face scrunched up with confusion.

"Okay," she said. "Would you like to help me get dressed, Tali?"

Tali nodded, and took Ziva's hand. The two of them disappeared behind the bedroom door. Tali chattering away.

Tony put away the groceries, and used a handkerchief to wipe away the sweat on the back of his neck.

The apartment was suddenly unbearably hot

Tali's laugh travelled through the apartment.

"You look like a real life princess, Ima," Tali said. "The prettiest princess ever."

Tony reached his hand into his pocket, and played with the ring box.

He ran through everything he wanted to say. Things he had written down over the last year.

You are the best mother.

You are my home, as long as I'm with you okay. Not just okay, better than okay.

You make me want to be a better man.

It all makes so much more sense when I'm with you.

"Daddy," Tali said, as she appeared in the living area, her white tights poking out form her new dress. "You ready?"

Tony nodded.

He was as ready as he would ever be.

Tali rushed back into the bedroom, and then came back out with Ziva.

The blue dress was even more beautiful than the last time she had worn it. She had let her hair down, and curls fell down past her shoulders. Ziva had put just a little lipstick on, and wrapped a scarf around her shoulders.

"Welcome to the David-DiNozzo art gallery," Tony said as he took his place at one end of the lined up chairs. "Miss Tali DiNozzo, our artist in residence, is debuting her sequential art. It's important that you watch the display to understand the message she is trying to convey."

Ziva smiled. A huge smile that ran right up to her eyes.

"Miss DiNozzo are you ready?" Tony asked.

Tali nodded. Her little hands were shaking.

She picked up the first card.

IMA

Ziva bounced on the balls of her feet.

Tony nodded at Tali, she picked up the next card.

YOU

Tony's face flushed red.

Tali's eyes went wide.

"It's okay," he whispered, leaning close to Tali. "We'll fix it."

Ziva's hand moved to above her mouth. Hiding a slight smile. She had caught on.

WILL

Tony quickly swapped the YOU and WILL cards.

Ziva stepped closer to the cards.

"Is this what I think this is?" Ziva asked.

Tony pressed his finger to his lips.

"You can't rush the art," he said.

Tali put the next card up, and smiled a huge toothy grin.

MARRY

Ziva placed both her hands on her face, and her eyes went glassy.

"Oh, Tony," Ziva said. "This is what I think it is."

Tali put the final card up, and looked at Ziva expectantly.

DADDY?

Tony got down on one knee and pulled out the ring box.

"Ima, will you marry Daddy?" Tali read aloud, the words all running together.

"You know my answer," Ziva said.

Tali grabbed Tony's phone from the table, and started taking photos as instructed.

"You have to say it," he said.

"Yes," she said. "I will marry you."

Tony slid the ring onto Ziva's finger. It fit perfectly. He knew it would, because he got the ring resized for her.

"I had this whole speech planned," he said, looking up at her."l wanted to tell you how much I wanted to marry you. I wanted to say how you make me want to be a better man, and how it all makes sense when I'm with you. I wanted to say that even with everything we've put each other through, I'd do it all over again so we could be here now."

He couldn't live without her. He had told her as much over a decade ago.

"I know," Ziva said. "I have known for a long time."

"Me too," he said, as a tear slipped down his face. "I should have done this a long time ago."

"We have never had good timing," Ziva said, as happy tears fell down her face. "But, I know that for a long time I was looking for something permanent, and it was so much closer than I thought. You and Tali, you are my home. My something permanent."

"Yay," Tali said. "Ima said yes."

Ziva offered her hand to Tony so that he could get up.

He pulled himself up, ignoring the spasm in his back, and looked at her.

She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close.

"This was perfect," she said, with a sniffle. "Much better than anything I could have imagined."

"I wanted to make it special," he said. "For all three of us."

If the last year had taught him anything, it was that they needed to hang onto these special moments.

"It was," Ziva said. "Tali is going to have impossible expectations."

"Good," he said, "I only want the best for her."

Tali rushed toward them, and wrapped her arms around both of her parents.

"I helped," Tali said.

"I know," Ziva said. "I bet you were a big help."

Tali nodded proudly.

"Couldn't have done this without you, kid," he said, patting Tali's head.

Tali smiled at him. A huge toothy smile.

Not quite an hour later a photo went out to all their favourite people. It was a selfie of the trio in their fancy clothes, Ziva's had over Tali's shoulder. The ring glistening in the winter sun. Tali got to write the message.

Ima and Daddy are getting married … finally.


	28. The Most Special Day

Tali woke up slowly, and looked around her room. A slither of grey light peaked from behind the curtains.

It was morning.

Her Ima and Daddy had a rule, the sun had to be in the sky for Tali to get out of bed, and when she got up she had to be quiet.

Daddy needed his beauty sleep.

Tali lifted her heavy blanket up, Ima had gotten it for her when it started getting cold, it had a rainbow on the front. Tali loved rainbows.

She loved the idea of a pot of gold at the end.

It was cold when she lifted the blanket up, and she put the blanket down. She moved in the bed like a fish, and tried to get warm again.

Kelev looked at her from his place next to her.

Tali wanted a real life puppy so bad.

She would look after it so well.

Maybe when they moved to America. She would get to see Pop-Pop everyday then, maybe they could walk the dog together.

Tali missed Pop-Pop, so much.

Tali turned over in bed, and looked around her room. Her Daddy called it a closet room, and said that when they moved, he would make sure she got a bigger room.

Tali liked her little room. It felt safe and cosy. She could see all of her favourite things. Her toys and her books on the shelves. Her clothes in her wardrobe.

Sometimes when Ima was not with them, Tali would lay on the bed, holding Ima's special necklace, and it was almost like Ima was with her.

It was much better now that Ima was with them.

Daddy was so much happier now.

Tali flopped like a fish again, and slid down the bed, she wanted to get up but it was too cold.

Daddy said that it got even colder in America. It started snowing around Thanksgiving, which she knew was just after Ima's birthday and right around her Doda Tali's birthday. Or what should have been her birthday.

Tali wished it was summer again. She loved summer. She had loved their summer holiday. Daddy had held her hand when they walked into the sea. The sea was cold, but it was so good on a hot day.

Ima had taken them to lots of museums. She had held Tali's hand, and pointed out all the cool things. Some of them were cool, but some of them were boring. Ima got so excited when they saw some of the history.

Tali liked holding Ima's hand. Ima always made sure she held on just tight that Tali knew she would never leave again.

Tali wished it was still summer.

At least Daddy let them eat ice cream during the winter. Flora's Maman only let her eat ice cream in the summer.

Tali shuffled down the bed, so she could see the door. Her door was kept slightly open, because it was scary when the door was closed.

Tali needed to know that she could get to her parents, if she needed to.

Maybe, when they moved to America, Tali would be a big girl, and close the door.

There was a stream of light coming from the door. Tali recognised the golden glow of the lamp that stood next to the couch.

It meant that one of her parents was up and awake.

Probably Ima. Ima liked to get up early. In the summer she went for runs in the morning. Ima needed to go for runs to have some quiet time.

Ima got sad and scared sometimes. She saw a doctor on Wednesdays to help her.

It was winter, so Ima would go for a run later, or maybe they would ride their bikes to the park instead. Tali liked it when they all rode their bikes, even if Daddy got a little wobbly sometimes.

Ima had promised that when they moved to America, that their house would be near parks with bike paths. So they could go for lots of rides.

Tali stretched in bed, and decided she wanted to see who was in the living room.

When it was just Daddy and Tali, sometimes Daddy would leave the light on when he went to bed. Or he would fall asleep on the couch.

He didn't do that anymore.

There was no one to keep the light on for.

Tali lifted her rainbow blanket off her bed, and frowned at the cold. She sat up in bed and sunk her feet into the unicorn slippers that Daddy got her, because she grew out of her rainbow slippers. She liked the unicorn ones better.

She was growing. All the adults always told her how tall she was getting.

Tali picked up Kelev and walked toward the door. Her slippers slop-slopped on the wooden floor. Tali picked up her fluffy dressing gown from its special hook, the one shaped like a T, because T was for Tali, from the back of the door.

It was still cold, if one of her parents wasn't in the living room, she would sneak into their bed. But quietly, so she did not disturb Daddy's beauty sleep.

When Ima first came home she would sneak into their bed all the time. She needed to be sure that Ima was still there, and that Daddy had not gone anyway.

She had never had both her parents before, and wasn't used to it.

Now, she was, and didn't want to go back to a world where it was just Ima, or just Daddy.

She opened the door into the living room, and saw the top of Ima's head poking up above the back of the couch.

Tali moved around the couch, the belt of her dressing gown dragging on the floor.

"Boker Tov Tali," Ima said, as she looked over the couch.

"Hi, Ima," Tali said, as she stood in front of the couch.

Ima had the big throw dark green blanket over her lap, and was resting a book on her lap. Her dressing gown was coffee coloured.

Her mug was on the coffee table, with steam coming from the top.

"It is cold," Ima said, as she patted the space next to her. "Do you want to snuggle?"

Tali loved snuggling, especially with Ima. When she snuggled with Ima, Tali felt warm all over. Sometimes, Ima told stories of what Tali had been like as a baby.

You were so little. So perfect.

Tali kicked off her slippers and got onto the couch. She sat right next to Ima. Ima lifted up the big green blanket and put it over their laps. Tali sat Kelev on the other side of her, so he got a little bit of the blanket. He needed to stay warm too.

Ima's arm moved around Tali's back, and she pulled her close.

"What are you reading?" Tali asked.

Ima loved reading. Daddy had brought another bookcase to store all of the books.

They had brought eight books for Ima for Hanukkah from the special book store, the one with a mural in the children's section. They had given her a different book each night. Hanukkah had finished last week, and Ima had already read two of the books.

"I was not reading," Ima said, looking down at the book on her lap. "I was writing."

"Writing?" Tali echoed.

Ima nodded.

"Sometimes, I write in my journal," Ima said, "When I need to work out some things."

"Is it a secret journal?" Tali asked.

Ima shook her head.

"Not exactly," Ima said. "But, it is private. It is for me. I would not like anyone to read it."

"Okay," Tali said. "I won't read it."

Ima reached over and put the journal on the coffee table.

"I know," Ima said, with a smile. "I trust you."

"I trust you too," Tali said.

"Do you know what trust means?" Ima asked.

Usually Tali asked all the questions. It was weird to be asked a question.

"Kinda," she said, as she reached out for Ima's hand. The one with the ring.

The ring that Daddy had given Ima, a few weeks ago, in their living room. Ima had cried when she got it.

Happy tears, Ima had said, when she gave Daddy a big hug.

Ima and Daddy had promised Tali that nothing would change when they got married, but Tali knew things would. Things always changed.

"It means you know someone," Ziva said. "So you know what they will do, even if they have not been in the situation before. I know you would not look at my journal."

Tali thought about the word again.

She knew one, but often both of her parents would be there to pick her up at the end of the school day. She trusted them to be there.

She knew that her parents would keep her safe. Daddy always made sure she wore her bike helmet. She trusted Daddy knew best.

She knew Ima wouldn't leave again. Ima had her books and Daddy had given her a ring. Ima always looked so sad when Tali brought up a time where she wasn't there. Tali trusted Ima to stay. Forever and ever.

"I trust you, Ima," Tali said. "And, I love you too."

Ima smiled, a big smile that went up to her eyes. Her eyes crinkled like paper.

"I love you Tali," Ima said, her voice getting soft.

Tali fiddled with Ima's ring. It glistened in the light.

"Can I have a journal?" Tali asked.

Ima looked down at her lap.

"Okay," Ima said slowly. "I was not much older than you, when I got my first journal."

It was weird to think of Ima and Daddy as children. They were so old. Not as old as Pop-Pop, but still really old.

"My parents were having a hard time," Ima said, her voice drifting away like it did when she talked about her parents and her little sister. "My friend Shmeil gave me a place to write down what I was was a safe place."

"Shmeil," Tali echoed. "Have I met him?"

She heard that name a lot. Daddy called him Shmeil the man of steel.

"Yes," Ima said. "Shmeil was a very special friend of mine, you met him when you were very little. You came into the world just as he was leaving it."

Tali nodded.

"Can we get my journal today?" Tali asked.

"I might have a notebook you can use," Ima said. "I will talk to Daddy."

They made decisions together in this family.

"Okay," Tali said.

"You know you can always come to your Daddy and I with your secrets," Ima said.

"I know," Tali said. "Especially, the big and scary ones."

Ima nodded again.

"Okay," Ima said. "I will talk to your Daddy, and if you get a journal we will promise not to read your journal or ask what you're writing about."

Tali remembered the school counselor, who she saw when Ima first came back.

Everything you say in this room is safe.

Tali didn't say much then. She was mostly happy that Ima was back.

Except when Ima sided with Daddy about bedtime.

Things were better now that Ima was back.

"Would you like to know what I was writing about?" Ima asked.

"I thought you couldn't ask," Tali said.

"You cannot," Ima said,"But, I am wanting to share with you. That is different. That is allowed."

Tali nodded.

"I was writing about today," Ima said. "Did you know it is an important day?"

Tali frowned.

Then it came to her.

"Because it's Monday and I don't have school," Tali said.

It was the Winter holidays, but Hannuakah was already over, and Christmas wouldn't be the same if Pop-Pop was only on the screen.

"Well that is special," Ima said, "But, that is not what I meant."

"What did you mean?" Tali asked.

"Do you know what an anniversary is?" Tali asked.

"Like a birthday but not," Tali said.

"Yes, I suppose that is a good way to explain it," Ima said. "Anyway, today is an anniversary. It has been one year since I came back to you."

Tali looked around the room.

Had it really been a whole year?

A whole year since Daddy sat her down for a campfire, and told her that her biggest wish in the entire world was coming true, Ima was coming home.

He said it might be hard for them all to get used to each other at first, but that they would work really hard, and it would be okay.

They didn't go to the airport, even though Tali wanted to, because there was a transport strike, and Daddy said they needed space to be together again.

Ima had looked so different when she first saw her from the living room window. She had looked so scared when she got out of the taxi. Then she saw them, and gave them a big wave.

A few minutes later they stood in the living room all holding each other.

It's over, Daddy kept saying, his nose all snotty from crying. It's finally over.

"Sometimes I forget," Tali admitted. "That you weren't always here."

Ima's lip moved, and she forced a smile. Talking about Ima not being there always hurt.

"It was very hard for me," Ima said, as she reached up for her necklace, "When we were not together. I missed you so much."

"I missed you too," Tali said, as she looked at Ima's necklace. Ima told her once that Tali had picked the necklace for Ima. It was how she kept Tali close. "What did you write?"

Ima looked at the journal.

"I wrote about how this has been a big year for all of us," Ima said. "So much has happened. Some of it could have been predicted, much of it could not."

"Do you mean this virus?" Tali asked.

"Yes," Ima said. "That lockdown was not something any of us could have planned for."

Tali was glad that the lockdown was over. She liked being able to go outside, and to go to school. Learning through the screen was not the same.

Ima had gotten a little sad for a while during lockdown. She spent a lot of time looking out the window.

Sometimes she talked to someone on the computer, in her bedroom, while Tali and Daddy watched movies. Daddy would sing the songs to distract her.

It is hard, Ima would say to the lady in the screen, So much is not known.

"And, next year our lives will probably look very different," Ima said.

"We'll be in America," Tali interrupted. "With Pop-Pop."

"Yes," Ima said. "And, you'll be at a new school."

Tali did not want to leave her friends, but her school always had students coming and going.

Her friend Flora had been to three schools already, because of her parents jobs.

"And, Daddy is going to get a job," Tali said.

Daddy had spoken to one of his friends from college on the computer. The man had been very surprised that Daddy had a daughter.

Daddy was talking to all these people so he could get a job, and start to help people.

He didn't need to be just a Daddy anymore, because Ima was with them.

Ima was going to stay just an Ima for now, but when Tali got bigger, she might go to college, because she did not get to go when she was young.

College was like a big school.

Tali would go to college one day. Ima and Daddy said they already had a savings account for that.

"Exactly," Ima said.

"And, you and Daddy will be married," Tali declared.

Ima laughed a little.

"Probably," Ima said.

"And, we'll have a puppy," Tali said.

That was more of wish than a fact, but last time Tali had a big wish it came true.

Ima came home.

Ima laughed, a full laugh, that made her hair bounce.

"Maybe," Ima said, "We will see."

That usually meant no, but Tali would keep wishing.

Sometimes wishes came true.

There was noise from the other end of the apartment, and Ima turned around.

"I think we woke Daddy up," Ima said.

Daddy stumbled toward them. His blue bathrobe was pulled tight. His hair stood up like spikes.

Daddy did not like mornings.

"Hi Family," Daddy said, as he leaned over the couch and kissed Ima's cheek. "Good morning."

He patted the top of Tali's head.

"I made coffee," Ima whispered to Daddy.

"I love you," Daddy told Ima, before he moved toward the kitchen. "You want some?"

Ima pointed to the empty cup on the coffee table. Ima didn't drink coffee, she drunk tea instead. For Ima's birthday, she and Daddy had brought lots of fancy teas.

"I am good," Ima said. "We will probably need to do breakfast soon."

Tali's stomach growled.

Daddy smiled, and patted his own stomach.

"I like that sound of that," he said.

He came back a few minutes later with his coffee cup. He sat down next to Tali.

Tali loved sitting like this. Squished between her parents. They would keep her safe.

"Do you know what today is, Daddy?" Tali asked.

Daddy's mouth disappeared behind his coffee cup, then reappeared.

"Monday," he said.

"Yes," TalI said. "And, it's Ima day."

Daddy's eyebrow moved, and he leaned forward to look at Ima.

Tali's Ima and Daddy could talk with a few head nods and eyebrow movements.

"Isn't that in the spring?" Daddy asked. "Remember we celebrated it twice this year."

Daddy said they had to make up for lost time. Ima had said they would only celebrate it once a year moving forward.

That wouldn't stop Tali making cards, she needed Ima to know how much she loved her.

"That's for all the Ima's," Tali said. "This is just for our Ima. It's our anniversary."

Daddy's mouth dropped open, and then closed. He'd worked it all out. Daddy was a smart man, even if he pretended he wasn't sometimes.

"It's been a year, hasn't it?" Daddy said, only looking at Ima. "Since, you came home."

Ima nodded.

"It has," Ima said.

"I knew it was coming up," Daddy said, still only talking to Ima. "I probably would have realised once I finished this coffee. I dunno if we were making a big deal about it."

"It is not a big deal," Ima said. "I know that day brings up a lot of feelings. I was working through some of them before Tali woke up."

"Yeah," Daddy said, looking away. "I think we should do something."

"It is not a big deal," Ima said again.

"Oh it is," Daddy said, as he turned and looked at Tali. "It's been quite the year. We should celebrate that, or at least acknowledge it."

Tali didn't know what acknowledged meant, that was a grown up word.

"Overall," Ima said. "It has been a good year."

Daddy nodded.

"We should celebrate," Daddy said. "How do you think we should celebrate, Tali?"

She thought really hard for a monument. Then her stomach growled.

"Pancakes?" Tali offered.

Ima and Daddy laughed a little.

"Well that's a good start," Daddy said, "Pancakes are a special breakfast, and it's a special day."

"We do special things everyday," Ima said. "You make every day special."

Tali thought about that for a second. She thought of the special walk they did on the way home from school, that passed the house with the rose garden. Even though it meant a longer walk.

She thought about the song in Hebrew, she and Ima sang when it was bath time. That was special.

So was the way Daddy did different voices when he read bedtime stories. He got so involved.

"I try," Daddy said with a smile, "And, I'm going to make today extra special. This time last year everything I ever wished for came true."

Ima's mouth formed a smile, and her eyes crinkled.

"If we are going to make it a thing," Ima started.

"Oh, we are totally going to make it a thing," Daddy interrupted. "At least this year."

Ima shook her head.

"I was going to say," Ima said, "That we cannot call it Ima day. It may have been me that came home, but we all had to grow and change. Are we not celebrating all of us?"

Daddy smiled a big grin.

"We should call it Family day," Tali said. "Because it's when we became a full family."

Ima and Daddy nodded at each other. Speaking their secret language.

"Happy Family Day," Daddy said, as he placed a kiss on Tali's cheek. "I'm so glad we're all together."

Ima did the same, placing a soft kiss on Tali's other cheek.

Daddy's hand reached for Ima's. They were all connected.

Tali felt a warmth in her tummy.

"Happy Family Day," Ima said. "I am so glad we are all together."

Tali giggled.

Then she reached out for her parents, and pulled them closer. They were a pile of family on the couch.

This was love.

This was family.

They were a family forever.

"Can we have pancakes now?" Tali asked.

Ima and Daddy laughed. Big loud laughs.

"She is your daughter," Ima declared, as Daddy started to get up.

Breakfast that day was lazy. Tali ate pancakes at their big dining table. Tali poured sickly sweet maple syrup on her pancakes, and ate until her stomach ached.

Ima and Daddy smiled at each other, and laughed.

Then once Tali's stomach stopped aching, they went to the park to ride their bikes. Daddy challenged Tali to a race, but Tali won.

Ima said pink made the bikes go faster.

When they got home, Ima presented Tali with a notebook that she could use as a journal. The book had a plain cover, but Daddy helped Tali write 'Tali's Special Journal' on the front in neat letters. Tali had not decided where to hide it yet, but she was not too worried about her parents finding it. She trusted them.

She wrote her first entry, when they were having quiet time.

I love Ima.

I love Daddy.

I'm so glad we're all together.

That night they had made pizza in their tiny kitchen. Tali got to use her fingers to stretch the dough, and Daddy ended up with tomato sauce on his face. Ima had held onto Tali as they watched the cheese turn golden through the window of the oven.

After the pizza, Tali sat squished between her parents, as they watched a movie. Tali liked sitting so close. She liked being able to hear Daddy's breaths, and touch Ima's hand.

It had been a special day. Not because something amazing happened, but because they got to do all of her favourite things.

And, because they were all together.

Later that night, when Tali was supposed to be asleep, Tali pulled her journal out from its hiding place, and wrote.

Today was the best day ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading. 
> 
> This fic, when it was written, represented some growth for me as a writer. I too, got rather glum earlier this year, due to the state of the world. And, I live in a part of Australia that avoided lockdown and mostly avoided community transmission. 
> 
> I struggle with writing kids, so ending this fic with Tali's point of view, was an experiment. I hope it worked.
> 
> Stay safe out there.


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